


ARCADIA.

by trustsalvatore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPF, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Asian Character(s), Character Death, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Good Death Eaters, Good Draco Malfoy, Original Character Death(s), Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Young Death Eaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustsalvatore/pseuds/trustsalvatore
Summary: ❝ i'm afraid of all i am,my mind feels like a foreign land ❞in which monsters needed to lookout for each other, every now and thenPandora Mortis was born to be a soldier. Her mouth tasted of fear and blood, and in sixteen years, she knew nothing but violence. After years of training and education in the Dark Arts, she was enrolled into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for one purpose and one purpose alone: weaken the Chosen One.She was not born for anything more than bloodshed. From the beginning, she had been a weapon more than she had been a person. A girl born in a burning house, who thought that the whole world was on fire.But his hands were more wonderful than the night; and in a world where she once had a thousand desires, she found that she only wanted one.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀  
❝ i saw the end before it begun ❞

in which she was forged in chaos,  
so chaos she shall be

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

THE BEGINNING OF THE END had been when Hogwarts allowed Ivelmorny student, Pandora Mortis, to enroll for her sixth year. She'd been a muggleborn, quietly sorted into Slytherin and ignored until her first day of classes.

But a girl forged in fire was always meant to burn. Always meant to watch the flames consume the world around her, to feel heat flickering in everything around her.

She would have been content in her hellfire -- if only she'd kept him at arm's length.

❝ silence ringing inside my head  
please carry me, carry me home ❞

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓

park sora as pandora mortis❝ who, if i screamed out, would hear meamong the hierarchies of angels? ❞  
park sora as pandora mortis  
❝ who, if i screamed out, would hear me  
among the hierarchies of angels? ❞

tom felton as draco malfoy❝ we are choking on halos that angelsburied six feet under realization thesaddest angel, we never made to be holy ❞  
tom felton as draco malfoy  
❝ we are choking on halos that angels  
buried six feet under realization the  
saddest angel, we never made to be holy ❞

tom felton as draco malfoy❝ we are choking on halos that angelsburied six feet under realization thesaddest angel, we never made to be holy ❞  
daniel radcliffe as harry potter  
❝ he had the awkward tenderness  
of someone who has never been  
loved, and is forced to improvise ❞

daniel radcliffe as harry potter❝ he had the awkward tendernessof someone who has never beenloved, and is forced to improvise ❞  
china anne mcclain as verena kouame  
❝ i clung to your hands so that something  
human might exist in the chaos ❞

mina el hammani as amani yassin❝ you were born with a fire insideyou, and the world is determinedto stamp it out ❞  
mina el hammani as amani yassin  
❝ you were born with a fire inside  
you, and the world is determined  
to stamp it out ❞

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

arcade - duncan laurence  
❝ loving you is a losing game ❞

i luv him. - catie turner  
❝ he's what i want, but i'm not what  
he needs - he needs to wake up and look  
in the mirror and like what he sees ❞

heavy heart - james ghareeb, verona rose  
❝ everyone around here thinks you're  
cold as stone, don't you feel it burning  
deep inside your bones? ❞

animal - troye sivan  
❝ no angels can beckon me back, it's  
hotter than hell where i'm at ❞

pancakes for dinner - lizzy mcalpine  
❝ i wanna get stuck in your head, i wanna  
watch a tv show together and when we're  
under the weather, we can watch it in bed ❞

rewrite the stars - zac efron, zendaya  
❝ what if we rewrite the stars - say  
you were meant to be mine? ❞

burned - grace vanderwaal  
❝ oh, little boy, when will you learn?  
you don't play with fire unless  
you wanna get burned ❞

𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  
this book is dedicated to emily and  
jules, and everyone on dracotok because  
i did not plan on writing a harry potter  
book, yet here we are

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑  
obviously i do not own the storyline or  
characters to harry potter. however, my ocs  
(including but not limited to: amani,  
pandora, and verena) and their storylines  
i have created myself. any parallels  
to real-life people are purely coincidental.  
thank you. adding to this, there will  
be several characters that have been  
recasted as poc, and this book will  
not follow the original storyline of harry  
potter. please feel free to leave if this  
is a problem. thank you.


	2. PROLOGUE

❝ is it better to out-monster the  
monster or to be quietly devoured? ❞

Pandora Mortis pulled at the sleeves of her obsidian blazer, adjusting the gold pendant around her neck. She stared into the primrose-framed mirror, a chuckle escaping her porcelain pink lips. Dark eyes reflected back at her, and in them she found only emptiness.

It was oddly comforting -- knowing that she would never think and feel the same way as the others. She would never understand how people could waste their time investing into temporary highs. Relationships.

It was pathetic.

"Good, you're awake." Pandora turned to see her father standing at her door, dressed in his usual black button-up and dress pants. His jet black hair was cut and combed perfectly, his normally tan skin paling in contrast to the neutral colors. Once she acknowledged his presence, he invited himself in, taking large strides towards his daughter. Something in her head begged for her to move away. She ignored it. "I am so proud of you."

She nodded and turned her attention back to her mirror, running her palms over her clothes in an effort to smooth out any wrinkles. The Mortis family was meant to appear perfect. "Did you need something?"

"A father can't say hello to his daughter without any ulterior motive?" Pandora fixated his gaze on his hand, watching as it rose from his side and placed itself onto her shoulder. Now, they were staring at each other's reflections.

Sometimes she wished she looked more like her mother. Lilith Mortis, in all her sociopathic glory, had been born with the features of a small cat. The ends of her lips seemed to be permanently turned upward, always placed in a subtle smile that would make even the Dark Lord himself feel uneasy. Despite the differences in appearances, Lilith and Midas shared one thing: they always had ulterior motives.

In this case answer was 'no.' Midas lived across the mansion and spent most of his time locked away in his study. If he made an effort to visit her, it wouldn't have been to tell her 'how proud he was.'

So instead, Pandora stared at him, her empty gaze boring into his reflection. To anyone else, he might have been frightening. Instead, Pandora saw nothing but an insufferable human. And in his daughter, he saw nothing but a chess piece.

A normal man might have frowned. Instead, the corner of his lip twitched and pulled itself into a half-smile. He lifted his head in approval, nodding at her reaction, as if she had passed some sort of test.

"I can't fool you, can I?" He squeezed her shoulder then, pulling her closer to his body. His voice dropped, and Pandora could hear the voice again. This time, pleading. "You know what to do, don't you? You understand how important this is."

She went to speak, but Midas quickly snatched her left arm and pulled her toward him. A burning sensation flew through her arm, and fear flicked in her eyes for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Instead, it was again replaced with emptiness and slight boredom. Danger flashed in Midas', any sense of pride fading away. In its place: hatred.

"You know what will happen if you fail, don't you?"

Pandora tightened her jaw as Midas lifted his hand, squeezing her face and pulling it towards his. She answered, "Yes."


	3. i. renaissance

❝ i have manipulated everyone who  
has ever fallen in love with me, and  
that either makes me a very good liar  
or a very unlovable human being ❞

"THIS SCHOOL IS RIDICULOUS."

Verena Kouame sighed, barely glancing up from the pages of her journal. She had been sitting in the potions classroom for all of five minutes before Malfoy walked in and took his place next to her. "What is it this time, Draco?"

"I'm wasting my bloody time here," He muttered, placing his hands in front of him. Verena glanced over and noticed the thick silver band on his ring finger, the Malfoy crest nearly blinding her. "My parents could have sent me anywhere else, and they chose Hogwarts. I could have afforded the tutor."

"We both could have afforded a tutor," Verena reminded him. We both know you're not here for education."

"If I was, I'm not anymore." He leaned back in his seat, and Verena frowned.

The two had met in their first year, the night all the Slytherins had been sorted together and were shoved into the Common Room. Verena had descended from pureblood lineage, making her friendship with Draco less than complicated. In all their years, Draco had always been a bit distant, lived in a world of his own. She'd always known there would be secrets about him that he would never confide in her -- only this time, something had changed. As if a switch had flipped somewhere. And the boy who she'd come to adore, had been pushed away by something far sadder..

She shut her journal, resting her quill against the leather-bound book. Draco barely spared her a glance. "Is there something you wanna talk about?"

"Do you have protection?" He swiftly changed the subject, his eyes trained on something across the room. Verena shifted in discomfort, but he cut her off before she could say another word. "If there was a war, where would you go?"

"There's not going to be a war," She chuckled.

"No? You watched the same tournament I did. Diggory came out of there without so much as a breath in his lungs," Draco sneered. It felt as if someone had punched her in the gut.

Verena and Cedric Diggory hadn't been close friends. It would have been difficult, considering her status; but she'd known him. Sat with him a few times during dinner, when she got bored of the Slytherins and invited herself to the Hufflepuff table. He was kind, in a way not a lot of Hogwarts students were. She'd even cheered for him in the Triwizard Tournaments, much to her house's dismay.

Draco hadn't known him well; but he should have known better.

"You're an asshole," Verena snapped, turning away from him and sitting back in her chair. The two sat in silence until the rest of the class flooded in. Draco and Verena were sat closest to the wall, and furthest away from Snape.

That part had been Verena's decision. It was in her second year that she noticed something off about the Professor. Some sort of feeling in her gut telling her to stay away from him. Draco wordlessly agreed to it, and for the next four years, they avoided him each chance they were given.

"It seems we have a new student," He announced, his words slow and monotonous. "Would you introduce yourself?"

A girl sat on the other side of the room looked up, tourmaline waves dancing across her shoulders as she did so. She wore simple black robes, unwrinkled, with a Slytherin tie wrapped perfectly around her neck. Verena lifted an eyebrow, leaning forward in curiosity. The girl cleared her throat, a delicate smile forming on her face. "Pandora Uso. It's a pleasure."

"A transfer student," Draco muttered beneath his breath, seemingly disgusted at the thought.

It was Potter that spoke next. He turned in his seat, looking to the girl with a smile. "You're a Slytherin?"

"I was sorted last night. Is that a bad thing?" She asked, eyes furrowed together. The look on her face was reminiscent of a small puppy.

"Sorry, where did you say you transferred from?" Hermione asked, turning in her seat to face her. "Hogwarts doesn't get many transfer students."

"Mahoutokoro School of Magic," Pandora answered. "It was the closest school at the time, but my parents are English-Korean, and they wished to return to England."

"Your parents are muggles?"

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Muggles?"

"People that don't have magic," Verena cut in, irritated by the conversation. Draco rolled his eyes at her efforts to end it. "You're a Slytherin. You're ambitious, cunning, and resourceful. There's nothing wrong with that."

Harry cleared his throat, catching Pandora's attention immediately. "My-my name's Harry."

"It's nice to meet you, Harry," She smiled.

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered. "Potter literally has a whole world to save, and now he's focused on the new girl."

Verena's gaze shifted to the blond boy next to her, poking at him teasingly. Her onyx eyes glittered with delight. "Jealous, Malfoy?"

He didn't reciprocate her advances. Instead, he sat motionlessly, stoney eyes trained on Professor Snape. Draco had always had his fun insulting Potter, and Verena would shut him down almost immediately by making fun of his little obsession.

She sighed and sat back in her seat. She turned her head to look back at Pandora and Harry, who seemed to be chatting away about God knows what. Based on the pink blush spreading across Potter's face, it seemed to be going well. After a few moments, Verena decided to leave the situation alone. She would have to approach her in the Common Room. The trio wouldn't be surrounding her, then.

Since she was a transfer, she would likely end up somewhere in Verena's dormitory. A few students hadn't returned for their sixth year, most notably, Edina Gehry. Though she and Edina weren't particularly close, they'd shared a dorm their first few years together. Any letters between the two were few and far between, though they'd seemed to dwindle towards the beginning of June. Her bedroom had been cleared by the time Verena had gone to check.

Still, Verena was unsure how the others would react to a muggleborn in the dormitory. The muggleborns sorted in Slytherin were usually pushed to the bottom of the ranks. Instead, she would be placed in a room with five other purebloods.

"You're thinking about befriending her," Draco stated.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Verena answered with an eyeroll. She tuned Draco out then, focusing on the lesson at hand. Somehow, Amani had been placed in a completely different Potions class period, thus forcing her to learn the information for herself.

Class droned on for the next two hours, and Pandora found herself struggling to keep herself awake through most of it. There was something about Snape's monotony that caused her to tune out his entire lesson. By the time everyone had gone up to leave, she'd just barely pried her eyes open.

Quickly, she gathered her textbooks and managed to make her way out of the classroom before the professor could stop her. Only a few paces away stood Harry, the curly-haired girl that stood next to him and the red-haired boy. Pandora nodded warily, taking the girl's defensive stance as a sign to stay away. Of course, she couldn't blame her. The boy hadn't even bothered to cover up his scar.

'The Chosen One,' She remembered. 'The one powerful enough to defeat Voldemort, would that be born to those who 'thrice defied him,' born as the seventh month dies, and would be marked by Voldemort as his equal.'

Had it not been for the scar, she would have assumed he was only a boy. An awkward one, at that. Pandora wasn't sure how it was possible to stutter your own name when introducing yourself. She wondered if it must have been some sort of cruel joke: an awkward teenage boy with scruffy hair and glasses against an immortal. Surely Hogwarts didn't have a class on 'How to Not Die During Battle 101.'

Surely he wouldn't survive.

"Hi," Someone said from behind her.

Pandora turned sharply on her heel, drawing her wand and holding it out in front of her.

"Whoa!" The girl immediately held her hands up in surrender, a nervous smile on her face. "Quick on your feet for a muggleborn, aren't you?"

She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the title. Slowly, Pandora dropped her wand, placing it back in her robes. "I don't enjoy surprises."

"I suppose I'll have to keep that in mind. I wouldn't want to be obliterated by the new girl on her first day," The girl said with a laugh.

"Sorry, did you need help with something?" Pandora asked, already somewhat irritated as she shifted her gaze between her schedule and a map of the castle. She swore they must have built the place to be a maze.

"You're a Slytherin, right?" The girl asked, her hand motioning to the tie around her neck. When Pandora shrugged, the girl chuckled. "It's not a bad thing. My girlfriend's in that house, actually. She's a Slytherin, as well."

'Girlfriend?' People had odd terms for their friendships nowadays.

"And you?" Pandora glanced at the blue and gold tie around her neck. Perhaps she should have studied before allowing her parents to enroll her into the school.

"Ravenclaw. Amani Yassin," She said with a smile, holding her hand out to Pandora. Pandora stared at it for a moment before hesitantly reaching her hand out and shaking it. "Sorry. Would you like any help around the school? I know it can be a bit confusing on your first day. Most professors should be giving you a pass if you're late, though."

Yassin. She must have been a muggleborn, then.

Pandora took a step closer. "What year are you in?"

"Sixth." Amani responded, holding her books to her chest. "I'm meant to be in my seventh year, but I had a late birthday is all."

She took a moment to analyze the girl. A muggleborn, and based off the leftover hairs on her robes, an animal person. She wore a white headcover, wrapped around her head and neck. It must have been a religious artifact, considering Pandora had only noticed a few others in the school wearing something similar. Since she was a sixth year, befriending her would have made it easier for Pandora to integrate herself within the society.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Yassin," Pandora greeted after a moment, precious pink lips forming a smile. "Pandora Uso. You can call me Pandora."

Amani smiled brightly and Pandora's schedule, immediately looking through the classes. "So, it looks like you have Herbology next. It shouldn't be much of a problem, really. The higher you score on your OWLs, the more dangerous the plants. Did you have those in Japan?"

"I scored all right," Pandora answered hesitantly. She'd scored one of the highest possible scores. Swallowing the needles in her throat, Pandora ran her fingers over her knuckles, wincing at the memory of her tutor slapping a wooden stick against her hands each time she answered incorrectly. By the end of the semester, her knuckles had turned dark purple.

"Good, then. Though, you might end up in a few classes with Malfoy. He's... irritatingly smart," Amani commented. "Since you're a muggleborn, I recommend you stay away from him. He may be the Slytherin Prince, but he isn't all that charming."

Malfoy. That name she could recognize.

She led to the doors of the castle, then stopped. "Herbology is usually in the greenhouse. You'll have Sprout. She's a kind old woman, so please treat her nicely."

"You have my word," Pandora responded dismissively. "What's wrong with Malfoy?"

"Blood status. I'm not sure how important it is in Japan, but purebloods tend to see themselves as higher than everyone else. Malfoy is one of those," Amani explained. "He calls us 'mudbloods,' and any pureblood that interacts with us a 'blood traitor.' He's cut down on it recently. Hermione Granger put him on his knees, so he does his best not to say it around her."

"Right," She nodded. She went to walk outside the doors, but stopped herself. "And what of Potter? He seems kind."

Amani stood in silence for a moment, a slight smirk forming on her face. For a moment, Pandora wondered if she had revealed herself. "Why don't we talk during study hall?"

"Yes. Study hall," Pandora agreed half-heartedly. She nodded and made her way to the greenhouse, taking a seat closest to the door and furthest away from the Professor.

She couldn't let herself become attached. Couldn't let herself acclimate and become comfortable in a world she would have to watch burn down. 'Sit by the doors, don't make friends unless absolutely necessary.' She knew her rules.

If she wanted to survive, she would follow them.


	4. ii. arsonist's lullaby

❝ there is a certain beauty in setting  
the world on fire and watching from  
the centre of the flames ❞

PANDORA'S FIRST DAY WAS less than eventful. In the eight hours she'd spent around the students at Hogwarts, she'd learned three things.

The first being that Harry Potter had the brain of a lovesick puppy. She would give him a small smile and bat her eyelashes, and leave the boy blushing in his seat. He was awkward, too. He couldn't go more than two sentences without stumbling on his words, even if the most he'd done was introduce himself and point her in the direction of her next class. He had the awkward tenderness of someone who had never been loved, and had been forced to improvise.

The second being that no one so much as batted an eye at her last name or rehearsed backstory. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or frown at the fact that they'd shrugged off a Japanese surname so easily, or questioned why she hadn't attended a Wizarding school in South Korea.

The third being, she despised the Slytherin house.

Had she gone as Mortis, things might have gone more smoothly. She would have kept her status, and the little brats that whispered about her in the hallway would be crushed beneath her heel. In truth, the only thing interfering with her mission at the moment was the urge to utter a crucio curse each time Pansy Parkinson so much as breathed in her direction.

The Great Hall was filled with students from each house, the tables seemingly never-ending and covered with platters of roasted turkey, black pudding, and steak. She'd been placed towards the end of the table, a result of her 'muggleborn' status. The more luxurious foods were quickly pulled away from her, instead replaced with leftover sheperd's pie and roast potatoes.

Pandora hated roast potatoes.

"You're not eating much, are you?"

She turned her head to see the Ravenclaw girl -- Amani -- taking a seat next to her. Pandora lifted an eyebrow in confusion, whipping her head around to see if house-mixing was a common practice. Unfortunately, the room just seemed to be a large mix of black robes and laughing students.

Pandora rolled her eyes and turned back to the table. "I'm not the biggest fan of stew."

"Yeah, chances are you're not going to get the most luxurious meals on this end of the table," Amani chuckled, her eyes shifting to the purebloods sitting at the other end. Each of the bastards enjoyed their fill of roast beef and casserole. She sighed and pushed her plate toward Pandora. "Here. Other houses don't typically steal from each other, so have at it."

Her eyes drifted to the silver plate, which had a cut of steak, kidney pudding, and a few vegetables. Pandora lifted her eyebrows, her stomach grumbling at the sight.

"Take some," Amani pushed the plate toward her with a chuckle. "Really, I brought this here for you."

"Why would you do that?" Pandora asked bluntly, her hands glued to her sides and eyes feasting on the meal in front of her.

"Because I know what it's like to be discriminated against for something you can control. Eat." The girl all but shoved a fork in Pandora's hand, sighing as she leaned her body against the wooden table, her eyes seemingly searching the halls.

With a quiet 'hmph,' Pandora took a bite of the meal in front of her. She hadn't gone out of her way to eat breakfast that morning, and choked down two bites of potato during lunch before she gave up and returned to studying the castle grounds. It was a wonder how many poor bastards had gotten lost and perished within the castle walls. She wouldn't be one of them.

Still, that night marked the second time Amani approached her with kindness. She might have thought her a weak Hufflepuff it weren't for the astrology books she carried in her arms. Surely she must have needed something. Perhaps some money -- muggles needed things like that, didn't they? The silver jewelry hanging from Pandora's wrists and neck didn't exactly conceal her family's financial status.

After a few more bites, Pandora decided she would go along with it. What was a few pieces of jewelry in exchange for proper meals every night?

"For the last time: no, I didn't get an invitation to Slughorn's dinner party," A girl muttered, taking a seat across from Amani. She had long, dark hair and a sepia skin tone. Pandora looked up, eyes fixating on the green and silver tie wrapped around her neck.

Only two steps behind her was a boy, the same age as Amani and the stranger. He possessed pale skin and platinum blond hair, a matching Slytherin tie tucked beneath his robes. As he arrived, three muggleborn students arose from their seats and exited the hall, thus leaving six feet between him and the nearest student.

It was odd. Something about the silver hair and pale skin rung too closely to home. If she squinted, she could see traces of an old friend.

"Hi," Amani greeted the two with a smile, though her eyes fixated on the girl in front of her.

"Hi," The girl responded with an equally bright smile. Her eyes flickered over to Pandora, who had placed her utensils down and begun to take a drink from a silver goblet. "Uso. You're in my Potions class."

Pandora nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Pandora. And you?"

"Verena Kouame," She smiled happily. Pandora recognized the surname in an instant. Her blood was pure. A second passed, and she motioned to the boy next to her. "This is Draco."

'Malfoy. He was a Malfoy.' Pandora's eyes drifted to the black sleeve that covered his forearm, which he'd tucked close to his chest. She lifted an eyebrow at him, but disregarded it. So long as he didn't recognize her -- or at least kept quiet -- she wouldn't have to say anything, so long as he remained clueless as to who she was.

It wouldn't matter regardless. It was her family name that allowed her to hide in the shadows so well. She was sure she could have used the Korean equivalent of her name and still been able to fool the creatures that attended the school. All she would have to do is give them the same smile she'd given Potter. After all, who was foolish enough to question the Chosen One?

"It's a pleasure," Pandora greeted them with a delicate smile, the skin on her cheeks raising to meet her eyes. She held her hand out to Verena, shaking her hand gently. "Please, call me Pandora."

When she reached her hand out to Malfoy, his look of angst morphed into one of disgust. "Do you actually think I would shake hands with someone like you?"

'So he has figured it out.'

Her left hand reached into her robes, tightening its grip around the cedarwood wand in its pockets. Still, she kept the doe-eyed look on her face, allowing her emotions to shift to confusion in a matter of seconds. "I beg your pardon?"

Verena stiffened, her right hand reaching out to grab Draco's arm before he could swat Pandora's hand away. Malfoy interrupted her before she could speak. "Do you really expect me to touch her? She's lucky I'm even sitting across from her."

"Draco, she doesn't even know what it's like here," Verena tried.

"Perhaps she should figure it out sooner. She's a mudblood sitting at the end of a table, eating leftovers from another house," Draco spat. "She should know where she belongs."

'I could set you on fire,' She thought, her memory returning to the torture curse. She was sure it must have been forbidden here. After all, Dumbledore couldn't have his little pupils running around cursing each other. The pain in itself was excruciating. As though someone had set you on fire, and it ate away at your flesh from the inside out. The pain itself was paralyzing.

She wondered how well a little school boy would be able to tolerate it. How long it would last before she was ultimately expelled and sent to Azkaban for her 'crimes against wizardry.'

"Do you really think you're above me?" Name-wise, he was. Anyone with half a brain would have known to pick a Malfoy over a Mortis. Still, he was no less than a child. A little seventeen year old boy whose only responsibility was to carry on his family name. Privilege ran through his veins and dripped from beneath his teeth.

"I am above you," Draco snapped. "A foreign muggleborn? I bet you don't even know any proper spells."

"You should go," Verena commanded, her once calm voice morphing into one of anger. She sent Malfoy a sharp glare, which he reciprocated. He looked between the two girls for a moment, then left in frustration. Pandora released her hold on the wand in her robes, relaxing her muscles as Verena began to apologize to her. "I wish I could say he's not normally like that."

"He usually avoids the topic," Amani muttered, taking a fork and picking at the leftover food on Pandora's plate. She'd shoved it away from her somewhere during the conversation with Draco.

"I take it you're a pureblood then. If he allows himself to be so close to you," Pandora pointed out. She hadn't heard of the Kouames. They must not have known, then.

Verena nodded awkwardly, taking sudden interest in the carvings on the Slytherin bench. "I am. He's my best friend."

"He's quite the bastard."

"He's the Slytherin Prince," Amani said, shrugging half-heartedly. She picked at the food in front of her, which Verena pulled away from her with a stern look. "He's always expected us to look at him as though he walked on water, and yet he skips classes whenever we're forced to confront boggarts."

'Slytherin Prince.' Is that what he was? Is that why he thought himself above her? Over a school title that, in the grand scheme of things, never truly mattered?

"What dorm were you put in?" Verena asked, quickly changing the topic.

"Yours," Pandora said simply. When Verena looked up curiously, Pandora added, "I noticed you walking out of the dormitories this morning, that's all."

Truth is, she hadn't gotten much sleep at all that night. She'd spent most of it reviewing the plan in her head. She couldn't afford to sleep in, not when she hadn't made any friends that would be willing to wake her. The staff at Hogwarts weren't much better in terms of responsibility either. She would have been put through three different hexes if she'd been five seconds later to class than usual.

It wasn't hard to take notice of the different girls leaving the dormitory throughout the morning. The Slytherin dormitories had been split up, though, each girl receiving their own bedroom and one small shared area with a door to the common room. Verena had been the first to wake, leaving her bedroom with perfectly cleaned robes and a small pile of books tucked between her arms and chest.

Pandora gave the two a gentle smile and excused herself from the table, making her way to her dormitory. She would talk with Potter again tomorrow. For now, she needed rest.

"So Edina really is gone," Amani stated after a few moments, glancing up at her partner.

"You sound disappointed," Verena pointed out. "She was terrible to you."

"But she loved Hogwarts," She argued, leaning against the table. "If she transferred or left, she must have had a good reason. He-who-must-not-be-named, he might be after her family."

"He isn't an issue right now. He isn't coming and no one is in danger. If she genuinely believed it was, then she's better off gone," Verena said with an eye roll. When Amani frowned at her, she let out a sigh. "Look, he hasn't made any threats against the school yet, has he? No giant serpents slithering around the castle, no Gryffindor girls with creepy diaries?"

"Verena, he..." Amani lowered her voice, glancing around the room to ensure no one would hear her. "He killed Cedric, remember?"

Of course she remembered. She'd had to comfort Amani for months afterward, and narrowly avoided the Ravenclaw tower in her effort to avoid Mei Yun's wails every night. "And he's been mostly quiet since then. I haven't heard anything from him all summer, have you?"

"Of course not, but there's always a chance--"

"A chance that what? He's going to hide in the shadows until Potter figures out he's ready to fulfill the prophecy?" Verena lifted an eyebrow. Amani frowned at her tone, and she quickly fell back. "I'm sorry. It just... there's no way he's going after the Gehry's. They're a pureblood family that's been around for centuries. If there's a family of blood traitor he wants on a platter, it's not going to be Edina Gehry."

Amani stared at her, processing the information before letting out a sigh. "Perhaps you're right."

"I am. We're going to be fine, I promise. You have nothing to worry about." Verena reached her hand out, placing it in Amani's and stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. "Besides, you know I'll always protect you."

A small smile formed on her face, and she turned Verena's hand over, squeezing it with her own. She'd never been known for her affectionate moments, but it was times like this when Amani knew: Verena would have her until every last star in the galaxy died. And she wouldn't regret any of it.

Back at the dormitories, Pandora all but slammed the door behind her, eyes scanning the common room before she begrudgingly made her way to her area of the dungeons. In the corner of her eye, she saw a streak of white, and froze in her place. She turned her head to see a dark figure with platinum blonde hair walking around the male dormitories, back hunched over as he wrung his hands.

It was odd to see a pureblood look so disheveled.

She realized she'd been staring too long when he stopped and looked up at her, his face morphing into a scowl. "You know, it's not polite to stare. I would have thought those muggles would have taught you some manners."

"And I would have assumed your parents taught you never to threaten someone without a wand." The words escaped her lips before she could stop them, but she forced her features to remain calm. She pulled her wand from her robes, holding the fourteen-inch cedar-wood in front of her. "Duel me, Malfoy, or shut up."

"And what makes you think you're worth my time?"

Pandora was silent, raising her wand in front of her and lifting an eyebrow.

They stood in silence for a moment, Draco never once reaching for his wand and attempting to combat Pandora's offer with a harsh glare. In the seconds that passed, she debated whether his efforts were pathetic or comedic. She waited for him to reach for his wand, yell some sort of jinx that she would combat in an instant. Any efforts to make her new environment more familiar.

Instead, he said nothing, turning on his heel and making his way down the hall. Pandora tightened her jaw, dropping her wand to her side as she made her way back to her dorm. As she shut the door behind her, she casted a silencing spell around the room and added an extra lock to the door.

Across the room, in front of a large window, sat a black crow. Beneath it was a white envelope with a familiar black seal. Pandora walked forward, taking the envelope from the creature and nodding.

It flew out of the castle then, having completed its mission. Pandora lifted the envelope into her hands, breaking the seal and pulling out a small card. Lilith Mortis's calligraphy decorated the small page, and Pandora's breath nearly caught in her throat as her eyes scanned the letter.

'We're still watching.'

-

Author's Note:  
I've renamed Cho Chang to Mei Yun. J.K. Rowling's representation of people of color is at best, ignorant, and at worst, racist. As an Asian-American, I refuse to stand for this. If this is an issue, please feel free to leave.


	5. iii : anguis

❝ there is a certain beauty in setting  
the world on fire and watching from  
the centre of the flames ❞

PANDORA STARED DOWN AT the little creature, its beady dark eyes boring into her own from across the room. She’d been awake for all of two hours before she noticed the squeaking and scattering across the pavement of her dorm.. The girl narrowed her eyes, reaching for her wand and putting it out in front of her.

“Lumos,” She whispered beneath her breath, watching as a blue light appeared at the end of her cedarwood wand. Pandora moved from her spot near the windows, having gotten bored of her view of the cliffside, and slowly moved toward where the animal hid. It had tried to shelter itself beneath her desk, its pink tail sticking out towards the end.

It was a fat little thing, with particularly large ears for its size and covered with gray fur. Its body couldn’t have been larger than her hand. She was sure it must have been some sort of rat that a student had brought as a pet, and had somehow snuck out of their dormitory. That, or it could have simply been a result of the filthy castle.

Only once had Pandora come close to developing a bond with a creature, and looking back, she realized how weak she had looked. She couldn’t have been older than eleven, as it was at a time when her parents still allowed the tutors to bring her into the garden for herbology. Lilith Mortis had spent years putting together the perfect garden behind the mansion, complete with statues of dark wizards and ingredients for forbidden potions. Midas had only agreed due to the garden’s effect on their daughter’s education.

One day, her tutor, Francis, left her in the garden to speak to her parents. She’d taken the opportunity to venture toward the small patch of flowers Lilith had grown, where she found a lizard hiding beneath the bushes. It must have been there a while, considering the water droplets scattered across its scaled back.

She remembered smiling when she found it, reaching for it and placing it in the palm of her childish hands. She supposed it might have been its face that interested her so much. The little thing looked as if it was smiling up at her, basking in the warmth of her hands and closing its eyes as she ran her index finger over its back.

“Anguis,” She’d named him, as though the thing cared if it’d been claimed by a human.

A moment later, she heard a door shut. Her eyes widened as she hid the creature in her hands, holding it behind her back as Francis came toward her.

Looking back, Francis had been quite young for a tutor -- likely in his mid-to-late twenties. His curly blond hair had stopped at his shoulders, stormy blue eyes glaring at any living being within five metres.

His eyes seemed to narrow as he approached her, phoenix-feather wand in hand and ready to fire at any given moment. “Did I miss anything?”

“No,” She shook her head, doing her best to ignore the tightening in her throat. “Not at all.”

In hindsight, it was obvious he was suspicious. Still, he’d nodded, kneeling down and placing a hand on her shoulder. His dark eyes softened for a moment. “You know what happens when you lie to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Professor,” She nodded sincerely, fighting the burning feeling behind her eyes. In an instant, she remembered the way he’d struck her with the stinging spell when she lied about studying her wand movements.

Francis smiled then, chuckling as he brought himself back to his feet. He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on, then. Your next lesson begins soon. Go on to your room and I’ll follow after you.”

She all but ran back into the mansion, making her way up several flights of stairs and dashing into her bedroom. Her eyes scanned the room before landing on a simple black box that her mother had given to her to store jewelry. Quickly, she emptied out its items on her bed, covering it up with her comforter, and set Anguis down inside the box.

Pandora managed to whisper a charm, rendering the object invisible, before she heard footsteps approaching her bedroom. 

“Why don’t we learn a curse from now on, yeah?” Francis asked, wandering across the large bedroom before he stopped at her desk. He smiled and waved his wand, muttering a few words beneath his breath before Anguis appeared in his little box.

Pandora froze in her place, watching as Francis took the creature into one hand and his wand in the other. It was as though everything moved in slow motion, her brain desperately trying to predict what would happen next.

“Tell me, darling, what are the Unforgivable Curses?”

“The Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius Curse, and…” She trailed off, wincing at the final answer. Several different outcomes ran through her head, and she looked up at Francis, heart beating wildly in her chest.

“Well, those aren’t all of them,” Francis chuckled, running the tip of his wand along Anguis’s back. A sadistic smile formed on his face as he watched Pandora shuffle in place. “Come on, now. I know you’ve done your reading.”

If she spoke, there was a guarantee he would only become angrier. She would lose her garden privileges, all of her classes being moved to her bedroom. He was testing her. Seeing whether she disobeyed him knowingly, or if she was downright brainless. She would be safer staying quiet.

Seconds passed, and Francis seemed to grow impatient. “You know the final curse. I know you do.”

Silence.

“So much to say to this little creature, so many lies to tell me -- and yet, when I ask you a simple question, you’ve gone mute,” Francis hissed. “I told you never to lie to me.”

Pandora’s words caught in her throat as Francis came toward her, lifting his wand and pointing it in her face. He might have killed her then, if it weren’t for the mission she’d yet to fulfill. Instead, he muttered, “Don’t think I won’t hesitate to use veritaserum. Answer my question, Pandora. What is the final forbidden curse?”

“The k… The Killing Curse,” She managed, her eyes trained on the small lizard in his hand. It looked back at her, face still formed into a smile, unaware of the situation unfolding before him. Francis raised an eyebrow at her, and she corrected herself. “The third one… It’s the Killing Curse.”

“Good,” His lips tugged into a smile, eyes softening once more. “That’s all I asked for. Now, what are the words?”

She almost hesitated, but he gave her a sharp look. “Avada Kedavra.”

“And the wand movement?”

Pandora pointed out her index finger, shakily tracing the outline of a lightning bolt into the air. Francis nodded in approval, setting Anguis down on her desk and turning to a shelf higher up in the bedroom. He pulled out a wooden case, reaching inside of it and pulling out a cedarwood, fourteen-inch wand. He placed the wand in her hand, forcing her to tighten her grip.

“With curses, your intentions need to be strong. Your words clear, and your movements cannot be sloppy or it will backfire.” Francis moved to stand behind her, squatting down to get closer to her ear. “Now fire it.”

“What?” Her eyes widened, glancing back at Francis to ensure she heard him correctly.

“Are you hard of hearing?” He questioned, forcing her to raise her wand and point it towards Anguis. Francis raised his own wand, pointing it toward her neck -- an unspoken threat. “Fire the Killing Curse.”

Young Pandora watched green light travel from her wand, toward the creature on her desk. In a second, it was struck dead, and Francis lifted its little body and tossed it from her balcony.

Perhaps she should have known better than to attach herself to something so quickly. She was meant to be a soldier -- a pureblood wizard. Emotions and attachments were below her. They always would be.

Pandora stared at the lifeless rodent, a familiar lighting bolt mark having torn through its flesh. She raised her wand again, pointing it at the corpse and uttering, “Evanesco.”

She winced then, her stomach grumbling. Pandora took one last look at the place where the creature had been, then tucked her wand into her robes. As she made her way out of the girl’s corridor, she heard two familiar voices.

“Come on,” Amani pleaded, jokingly shaking Verena’s shoulders. “It’s the first quidditch match of the season! Gryffindor isn’t even playing.”

“Neither is Slytherin,” Verena reminded her. She sat back in the love seat. “Why do you care so much, anyway? You’ve never liked quidditch.”

“Maybe I haven’t given it a real chance,” The girl suggested, pulling at Verena’s hand in an effort to get her to leave the common room. “I’ve never understood the rules before. Maybe you could explain them to me.”

“I always explain them to you,” She said with an eye roll. “And you’re surrounded by Ravenclaws! Why can’t they explain it to you?”

Amani caught sight of Pandora, just as she was leaving the corridor. She immediately called her over, waving her hands in the middle of the common room like a maniac. “Pandora! Are you going to the quidditch game today?”

Pandora had never cared much for quidditch. She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’ve never seen a proper game before.”

“They don’t play quidditch at your old school?” Verena questioned, turning to face her. “I’m sure my father’s talked about a few matches at Mahoutokoro before. It’s a small student body, but I’m sure there are enough houses.”

‘Merlin,’ She thought to herself. She kept her face calm and said, “I never bothered to attend. I thought I would wait until my seventh year to watch all of the games.”

“Then you can watch a few of the games here.” Amani smiled brightly, before reaching toward the table in front of them. On a small silver platter, a few strips of bacon and an egg. She picked it up and walked toward Pandora. “I picked this up on the way. Muggleborn Slytherins usually end up with a couple of bowls of cereal.”

Amani had been going out of her way to offer Pandora food whenever possible. Most of the time, Pandora had downright refused to consume the food offered to muggleborns. Amani had managed to bring her at least one meal everyday, and in return, Pandora played nice. She sat with her in any classes they had together, though the conversations were usually short, as Pandora was never quite sure what to say.

“Thank you.” Pandora slowly took the plate from her, and thought through her options. She lifted a piece of bacon to her lips, taking a small bite. Hogwarts food would never compare to the meals she was given at the mansion, but she supposed anything was better than cornflakes. “What time is the game?”

“It starts in an hour or so,” Amani answered. “Slytherin isn’t playing, but I still think you’d like it.”

“Good, you have a date now,” Verena stood from her seat and placed a small kiss on Amani’s cheek. They were affectionate for a platonic relationship. Pandora hadn’t seen a pair quite like Verena and Amani. As odd as it was to look at, they cared for each other. Neither party seemed to be gaining anything from their relationship. Rather, they seemed to coexist, each going to certain lengths to ensure they would spend at least a few hours a day with each other.

Most nights, she would hear Verena sneaking back into her corridor, having spent a few extra minutes in the Ravenclaw tower.

“I’ll go with you to the next match, yeah?” Verena offered, “It should be Slytherin against Ravenclaw. I think Mei tried for keeper this year.”

Amani let out a dramatic sigh, throwing her body onto the leather black loveseat. Verena chuckled and took her place next to her, moving Amani’s head onto her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around Amani’s shoulder, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

“I’ll meet you at the bleachers,” Amani told Pandora. “We can sit in the Ravenclaw stands, if you’d like. I’m not sure how many Slytherins are going, but I think you’d be more comfortable.”

“We aren’t that bad,” Verena argued.

Pandora nodded, making her way out of the common room. It was in the hallway that she caught sight of Draco Malfoy, platinum blond hair slicked back with gel. He wore a Slytherin green sweater vest, head bowed down as she passed by. He kept his wand in his hand, every muscle seeming to tense at the slightest movements.

He must’ve been chosen already. Not once had she seen him roll up his sleeves -- even in herbology, when Professor Sprout had them work with Dragon Dung. Most days, he hadn’t bothered to show up to classes, despite his consistent attendance to the Great Hall during meal times. Then, they would simply ignore each other, only sending the other person death glares when they breathed or moved the wrong way.

As they passed by each other, they caught each other’s eyes. Both wizards tightened their grip on their wands, jaws tightening as they crossed paths. She waited for him to mutter an insult, degrade her ‘status’ in some way.

Instead, he was silent, and she allowed her shoulders to fall.

It was in the courtyard that she caught sight of Harry Potter, with his two other peers. A girl, with dark curly hair, and a red-haired boy. She’d heard the Slytherins refer to him and his siblings as ‘Weasleys.’ It was an unfortunate surname, really.

She stopped just before the yard, tucking her wand into her robe. She ran her fingers through her hair, allowing her face to relax, before she approached the area. In truth, she hadn’t been going in any particular direction, but she did her best to subtly pass by the group. Only three paces later, and she heard,

“Pandora!”

She felt a tap on her shoulder and spun around, a small smile forming on her face as she looked up at the Gryffindor boy. “Hi, Harry.”

“Are you going to the Quidditch match today?” He asked, awkwardly scratching at the back of his head. His peers glared dagger in her direction.

“I am,” Pandora nodded, pale fingers playing at the sleeves of her robe. “Are you?”

“I was considering it,” He nodded awkwardly. A few seconds passed and he added, “You can come sit at the Gryffindor area, if you’d like. Erm… Hermione wanted to know more about the school you went to in Japan. Ma… Mahouto--”

“Mahoutokoro?” She offered, doing her best to ignore the shocked look painted across the girl’s face. “I would, but I’m actually sitting with Yassin in the Ravenclaw area. I’m not sure Gryffindors like me very much.”

She couldn’t care less whether Gryffindors liked her. It was just the matter of strangers glaring at her in the hallway that made her want to cast every hex she’d ever learned -- not that she would ever admit it.

“Oh,” Harry responded. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you mind if I sit with you, then? Ravenclaws have good… seating.”

Hermione and the boy nearly burst into laughter, covering their faces with their robes. Pandora watched the boy in front of her, green eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Sure.” Pandora nodded, the wheels in her head beginning to turn. Her smile widened and she took a step closer. “I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Really?” The red-haired boy questioned. Hermione hit him in the back of the head, and he winced.

“Yes,” Pandora stated, focusing her attention back to Harry. She looked up at him with doe eyes, watching as a blush formed on his face. “Would you walk me to the arena? I’m still not very familiar with the school.”

“Now?” He questioned, confused at her reaction. They’d still had half an hour before the match.

“Is that a problem?”

“I-uh… No, of course not! Let’s go,” He lifted his hand awkwardly, then dropped it, immediately regretting his actions. Pandora watched as he stumbled over his feet, “Would you, erm, uh…”

“Here.” Pandora reached out, wrapping her hand around his bicep. His eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes. She pretended not to notice. “I wouldn’t want to get lost.”

“Right, get lost,” Harry nodded.

“Is this all right?” She asked. He nodded nervously, and she motioned for him to lead the way. A few moments passed in silence, and she noticed his anxiety worsen. “Tell me about yourself, Harry.”

His breath caught in his throat. She waited for him to brag -- The Chosen One. Invincible. Born to defeat the Dark Lord.

“I play quidditch, too,” He said. Pandora’s face all but contorted in confusion. “I started in my first year. It was a lot of fun.”

“Right,” Pandora said after a moment. The universe must have been playing a cruel joke. They’d taken the title of ‘Chosen One’ and awarded it to the most idiotic sixth-year she’d ever met. It was a wonder he’d survived this long.

“So, have you ever tried butterbeer?” He asked.

“No,” Pandora admitted. Frankly, she couldn’t name a time that Midas and Lilith had let her outside the mansion.

It must have been a common drink, as Harry looked shocked at her response. “Are you serious?”

‘It’s a drink, Potter, not a bloody necessity,’ Pandora thought to herself. Still, she shrugged half-heartedly. “I’ve just never bothered. It’s not something I’ve ever gone out of my way to try.”

She was only partially lying.

“There’s a shoppe in Hogsmeade that serves butterbeer,” He stated. Pandora furrowed her brows. “You’re a sixth year, so you’d be able to go. They make the best butterbeer around.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Pandora asked, a playful smile forming on her face. She stopped just below the bleachers, turning to face him. A red tint covered his face, and she watched him stumble over his words.

“No! Yes?” He searched for a reaction, some sort of sign that he’d landed on the right answer. Harry groaned, dropping his hands. “If that’s all right.”

“Of course it is,” She chuckled. “Why don’t we go tonight? Right after the match?”

“Yes! That sounds great. It’s a wonder you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw.” She wasn’t sure whether to wince or laugh at his reaction. 

Instead, she suggested they find their seats, and she held onto his arms as he led her to the stands. He chose seats particularly high above, claiming that they would get the best view in that exact area. His eyes lit up as he watched the field, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff players alike practicing and flying around on their broomsticks. She’d never seen someone so ecstatic over a feeble little sport.

The longer she stared at him, the quicker she realized how human he was. She supposed she should have expected it -- he’d been raised by muggles, after all. Still, of all the things she might have expected from the Chosen One, she never would have expected this.


	6. iv. hereditary

❝ i may not be good, but i can wear  
innocence like a mask, and you'll  
never know how good bad can be  
until it skips a generation ❞

“I have absolutely no idea what’s happening,” Pandora muttered to herself, watching as several different players slammed into each other. Harry seemed ecstatic, watching the match with intensity. She nearly reached for her wand when one of the players flew too close to the bleachers.

The Ravenclaw stands, she’d realized, were just about the worst place to sit. Only a few minutes after she and Harry took their seats, Ravenclaw students flooded the seats, whispering about the match and placing bets on the scores. Even Amani had bet a few galleons, and Harry followed suit. There hadn’t even been much room on the stands, meaning Pandora’s leg was all but draped over Harry’s lap.

“What are they doing?” Pandora asked, motioning to the large, jet black balls that kept flying in the direction of the bleachers. Players would rush toward the balls, hitting them away from the crowd with a large bat.

Amani kept her eyes on the match. “They’re hitting the bludger away from the crowd. It’s made of iron, so it would hurt like hell.”

“Do you mean to tell me there’s nothing protecting me from getting hit with those things?” Her eyes widened, truly reaching for her wand. Just as she went to pull it from her robes, she felt a hand on her forearm. She flinched at the contact, snapping her attention toward the culprit.

It had been Harry. He gave her a light smile. “Don’t worry, everything is safe.”

Pandora’s eyes widened as a ‘bludger’ came rushing in their direction, nearly hitting them in the heads. She quickly waved her wand and yelled a charm, sending it flying in the opposite direction. Her eyes narrowed as the referees called for a stop, vision focusing on the players in the field. Her jaw tightened and she lifted her wand, pointing it in the direction of the nearest player with a bat.

They’d made an attempt on her life. She supposed shed’ have to repay them somehow. Their only saving grace would have been the fact that she couldn’t fire hexes from a long distance. It wouldn’t have stopped her from trying, though.

Before she could whisper a spell under her breath, Amani interrupted her thoughts, leaning back to get a better glimpse. “Harry, are you all right?”

Harry was completely fine. The bludger was only a few metres away when she cast the spell. It was only when she glanced back at him that she noticed that he’d retrieved his wand as well, holding it out in front of him. She’d just fired much faster.

It must have been the third time that day that she questioned how The Boy Who Lived had managed to do so for so bloody long.

He looked at her and smiled, quickly tucking his wand back into his robes. “See? Everything’s perfectly under control - like I said.”

“You are…” Idiotic. Suicidal. Half-witted. Mindless. Thoughtless. Foolhardy. Reckless. Harebrained. Dimwitted. Nonsensical. Mad. Chowderhead. Rash. Ill-advised.

Pandora had read countless novels; spent half her life dedicated to gaining a proper education, ensuring that she would be seen as intelligent when she met with the ministry. Still, none of the words in her vocabulary fit the amount of frustration she felt when she saw the relief on Harry’s face. The bastard could have died. The Boy Who Lived would have been killed by a flying ball of metal, and there he sat, making awkward jokes about an attempt on his life. He was…

“Quite the spectacle, Potter,” She finished. He looked down, his cheeks flushing at what he perceived to be a compliment. In reality, she wasn’t quite sure how she meant it; but she supposed it would help with her task. “No, really. You have the survival skills of an intoxicated pigeon.”

“Is that meant to be a good thing?”

She could have said ‘No.’ She could have told him he had no chance of surviving when the Dark Lord returned. She could have told him she couldn’t see him living past eighteen years old. Instead, she looked back at him, and her gaze softened.

His chestnut brown hair fell just halfway across his forehead, allowing a deep red scar to remain visible. His eyes still lit up with excitement at her slightest movements, and he became flustered when she so much as batted her eyelashes at him. He’d been born for a purpose. Born to be a soldier -- courageous, and resilient -- and here he was, fumbling over his words and rubbing his sweaty palms across his robes.

Was this the boy she’d be forced to kill? Would she have to wash his blood off her hands this time, next year?

“I haven’t decided yet,” She said.

Pandora brought her head to his shoulder, resting her hand on his barm. She had chosen to keep her wand in her hand, seeing as the players couldn’t be bothered to keep them away from her. She forced herself to remember their faces -- each of the main players and their obvious weaknesses. She’d found one for each -- one player swerved out of the way whenever the bludger came too close to his shoulder, the other flew closer to the ground, despite her high quality broomstick and lead position.

“Then the seekers try to…” Harry pointed to the two players frantically flying around the field. Pandora couldn’t bring herself to listen.

“Harry, are you playing in the next game?” Amani asked, pulling Pandora out of her thoughts.

“Erm, yeah,” He nodded. Pandora wondered how many of his sentences started with ‘erm.’ “I should be.”

“You’re going against Slytherin again,” She reminded him, and he grimaced. “D’you think you’re ready?”

“Sorry?” Pandora questioned, glancing between the two. She furrowed her brows together, asking, “What’s wrong with going against Slytherin?”

“Gryffindors and Slytherins have a longstanding rivalry,” Amani explained. “It only makes sense, I suppose. Hogwarts pits all the houses against each other for the House Cup every year, and Slytherins and Gryffindors are the most competitive. The courageous against the cunning.”

“That’s one way to put it,” A girl with dark hair turned in her seat, facing the three wizards. “Lately, it’s just been Harry against the entire Slytherin house. You’re even poaching their newest student.”

“I’m not poaching her!” Harry exclaimed, all too quickly for Pandora’s liking. “And anyway, I don’t like snakes.”

“No one likes snakes,” Pandora stated. His eyes widened upon the realization of what he’d just implied, and she adjusted her silver and green tie. Her gaze lingered on Harry for a second, then she turned her attention to the girl in front of them. “Who are you?”

“Aella Coventry, seventh year.” Pureblood. She held her hand out to Pandora, bringing her attention to the Ravenclaw crest sewn into her robes. “Uso, isn’t it?”

“Pandora,” She corrected, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Aella insisted. She went to turn back to the game, then changed her mind, turning her attention back to Harry. “Harry, don’t you speak parseltongue?”

‘Parseltongue.’ The mark of a dark wizard. Lilith and Midas had insisted that Francis teach it to her, but she’d never been able to fully grasp it. Even with four years of training, all she’d gotten was the ability to say her name and firsthand experience with the Cruciatus Curse. It was in moments such as those that she felt like a proper failure.

If she’d worked for years and had barely gotten the basics. How was it possible that half-blood Harry Potter learned it before she did?

Aella turned away from Harry, Pandora, and Amani without so much as another word. Pandora glanced back at Harry, who looked all too uncomfortable with the situation. He nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“I suppose now would be a good time to mention I’m the Chosen One,” He murmured.

“Bloody hell, Harry,” Amani groaned, face-palming at his introduction.

“The Chosen One?” Pandora frowned, turning her body towards Harry. “Chosen for what?”

“Chosen to fulfill a prophecy,” He spoke slowly, carefully picking his words. She nearly grinned as he struggled with his explanation. She supposed she was the first person he’d had to explain this to. “Essentially…”

“Essentially, he has to save the wizarding world,” Amani said bluntly. “Possibly the muggle world.”

Harry sat with his mouth agape, and Pandora leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for your service, Chosen One,” she whispered the latter half into his ear, watching him fluster and flounder. She nearly let out a sigh of relief when everyone’s attention turned back to the quidditch game. She rested her head on Harry’s shoulder, her fingers running over the curves of her wand.

It was a few minutes later than Harry left to buy snacks with Amani, and she went to whisper a few hexes under her breath, her wand pointed at any wizard with a bat in their hand. Before she could cast a proper spell, she felt a burning sensation overtake her right arm. It was as if someone were holding it over a fire.

Her mouth fell agape, and she stood from her seat, rushing behind the stands, one hand gripping the other in an effort to conceal the pain. When she arrived at a more isolated area, she rushed to pull back the layers of clothing she’d kept around her arms. On her forearm, directly parallel to the Dark Mark carved into her left arm, she watched as her family crest was burned into her flesh, leaving behind trails of blood and dead skin.

She held her wand above the wound, her raspy voice barely managing a “lenio,” before her teeth buried themselves into her bottom lip. She supposed this was her punishment for not having responded to their letters quickly enough.

The charm did next to nothing, as its purpose was to alleviate minor or moderate pain, as opposed to burn wounds. Pandora grit her teeth together, her mind running a million miles a minute as she searched for a proper spell. The pain ripped through her arm, crawling up to her shoulder and slowly overtaking her chest. Suddenly, it became difficult to breathe, her lungs refusing to expand regardless of how desperately she needed them to.

“Ferula!” She groaned out, her words ragged. Bandages spun up her arm, strapping them around her forearm. Spots of blood seeped through the white cloth. The burning in her body seemed to subside, crawling back down her arm until it disappeared entirely. She breathed in relief, resisting the urge to hex the closest living object.

Pandora tried to pull herself together, pulling down the sleeves of her sweater and robes, despite the tight fabric bearing down on her wound. Seconds passed, and it occurred to her that neither Lilith nor Midas were capable of creating a spell so advanced. Not one that could be cast from such a distance -- they were educated in their own way, but they were nowhere close to being spell masters.

There was another Death Eater at Hogwarts -- a powerful one, at that. One that knew her true identity, and had taken the risk of cursing her in the middle of a mission. And yet, the Lilith and Midas weren’t so stupid as to reveal her mission to disloyal purebloods. If there was another follower here, they were following the demands of her parents.

And they would have to die for it.

-

“So, you have to save the world from what exactly?” Pandora asked as they walked the streets of Hogsmeade, a black wool coat wrapped tightly around her body. Her hand was wrapped around the upper part of Harry’s arm, and she suddenly became keenly aware that he wasn’t much taller than she was.

“Erm, well there’s this man…” He began, struggling with his words, his head bowing as if the answer to her question was written on the cobblestone. “His name is Voldemort. He’s a Dark Wizard. Has this fascination with the Dark Arts and immortality. I’m meant to defeat him -- according to the prophecy, at least.”

“And you don’t want to do that?” She asked, her fingers toying with the polyester on his sleeve. From this angle, it was difficult to see him as anymore than a boy. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her -- if not his mortal enemy. Lilith, Midas and France had gone out of their way to ensure that she was a picture of perfection. Not too intimidating, but not fragile. Kind, but not a pushover. Feminine, sweet, gentle. How much of it had he fallen for?

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Harry started. “It’s just not as exciting when there’s someone threatening your life every year you’ve been at Hogwarts.”

“I’m sure the privileges make up for it,” Pandora said, almost too sure of herself. “How many girls throw themselves at you everyday?”

“Quite literally none,” Harry said, as a matter-of-factly. A smile creeped onto Pandora’s face, a small laugh escaping her lips. He smiled, and they walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

At least, it was comfortable for Harry.

They stopped in front of a small shoppe, a sign hanging above the windows with the word ‘The Three Broomsticks’ carved into it. Pandora loosened her grip on Harry’s arm, and he slid out of it with ease. He held the door open for her, and she looked around the busy little cafe. It was far more crowded than she would have hoped.

Harry excused himself to order the butterbeer, and Pandora’s hands immediately crossed over her chest. She turned to look out the window, wizards in Hogwarts robes walking the cobblestone streets. It was as if she could hear her heart beating in her ears.

She’d laughed. Genuinely laughed, it hadn’t been planned. She hadn’t forced it -- planned it -- the way she had the small chuckles and hand-holding. She’d laughed, and smiled, and she was standing in the middle of a crowded restaurant with the inability to cast a proper curse. None of it had been part of the mission. Becoming a vulnerable little human had never been part of the mission.

How was she meant to be a soldier if she could fall victim to a few silly little emotions? It occurred to her that the Chosen One was far more trouble than he was worth.

He was just a boy. A little human boy. He was below her in every sense of the word -- a half-blood, an orphan, with no training nor education, no status to keep himself afloat, built to the bone with human emotions and empathy. Harry Potter was born to die. He had nothing to lose. She would lose everything - including her life.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and her eyes widened. Pandora acted out of instinct, grabbing the person’s wrist and holding it against their chest. She drew her wand, holding it against the attacker’s throat.

It was only then that she realized the ‘attacker’ had been Harry. He swallowed nervously at her reaction, and she slowly dropped her wand, releasing her grip on his wrist.

“Sorry,” She muttered, her eyes refusing to meet his. She cleared her throat.

“No, it’s all right. I, erm, I love being threatened,” Harry stumbled on his words. Pandora snorted at his reaction. She watched him struggle with his words for a few more moments before he finally gave up, reaching for two cups of frothy brown liquid he’d set down on a table behind them. He offered it out to her. “Butterbeer?”

“Thank you.” Pandora awkwardly took the mug from him, wincing when their fingers brushed against each other. She turned on her heel and sat at a table furthest from the windows. Harry took a seat across from her, his fingers drumming against the glass. Minutes had passed before she realized he’d been waiting for her to take a sip.

She lifted the mug with her left hand, bringing it to her lips and taking a tentative drink. The sweet liquid overwhelmed her senses, rendering her unaware of the white froth that covered her upper lip. It tasted like nothing she’d ever tasted before -- sweeter than honey, creamier than filling.

Before she realized what had happened, she’d drinken nearly half the glass. She set down the cup, embarrassed that she’d lost her composure so easily. She reached for the nearest napkin, quickly wiping off the white froth around her lips.

Harry watched with curiosity. “Was it good?”

“I’m not too familiar with sweets,” Pandora admitted, setting the napkin down beside her. She couldn’t afford too much sugar, what with her training. Lilith and Midas had never deemed it necessary, regardless.

“Do they not have sweets in Japan?”

She nearly laughed again. “No, they do. I was just… never interested in them, I suppose.”

He nodded, and a silence fell upon them again. Pandora was subtly pushing the mug further away from her, and Harry reached for a napkin then, leaning forward. He stopped a few inches from her face, as if to ask, ‘May I?’

Curious, Pandora nodded, and Harry patted at any leftover butterbeer on her face. He’d touched her with so much tenderness that she almost wished he would just kill her. If she reached out now, she was sure her hands could come away bloody. Every angle of her body had been sharpened to a point -- perfected -- to ensure that she would be the one to attract him.

She’d spent her entire life training, putting her life on the line to learn defensive magic and the Dark Arts; and somehow, it was in this moment that she felt the most vulnerable. If he looked into her eyes, what would he have seen? A monster? A stranger? An enemy? Or would he just see a girl?

She was sure she was unfit for any human relationship; and yet, when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend, she nodded, her voice barely audible when she whispered, “Yes.”


	7. v. flicker

❝ i'm sorry there is so much pain  
in this story - but there is nothing  
i can do to change it❞

IF THERE WAS ONE thing Pandora’s training hadn’t prepared her for, it was in-school gossip. Harry had met her outside the door to their Potions classroom, Ron and Hermione at his side. She feigned a blush, tightening her grip on her books as she walked toward him.

“Hi,” She greeted him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. She rested her hand on the back of his neck, and his hand awkwardly made its way to her back. She turned to Ron and Hermione and flashed them a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Hermione greeted with a polite smile.

“Are you seriously dating Harry?” Ron blurted out, his eyes wide. Pandora’s eyes widened at his reaction, and both Harry and Hermione shot him a glare. It was a shame, really. Harry was attractive in his own way. Sweet, his very presence reminiscent of a life she wasn’t sure she’d ever lived. It was a wonder he wasn’t spoken for when she first arrived.

Hermione made a quick movement and Ron doubled over, out of breath. Pandora’s lips twitched in amusement, and she rested her weight against Harry. “I think he’s a bit charming.”

If Pandora were to count the number of lies she’d told since she arrived, she was sure that would’ve been the hundredth. He wasn’t charming. He was nearly a muggle. A muggle boy with a muggle name. That was all.

“I hear we’re studying amortentia today,” Hermione commented. She wrapped her fingers around her small purple copy of Advanced Potion-Making. “How different was it, studying in Japan? Have you learned all of this before?”

It occurred to Pandora that she was several months younger than the students in front of her. She’d been born nine months after Harry, so mathematically, she was meant to be a fifth-year. She nodded. “Well, I was better at some classes more than others, but yes. I suppose the studies at Mahoutokoro are a bit more advanced than they are at Hogwarts.”

She probably could have named every potion in the book and been able to make it. It was true that she’d had her weak spots in studies, but failure had never been an option. At least, not with Francis. She would learn the material, or she would suffer until she did.

When they entered the class, the room seemed to hush, eyes falling on Harry and Pandora. Her shoulders straightened, her grip of Harry loosening as she stepped a few paces away. She ended up standing between Hermione and Verena -- and Merlin, it was uncomfortable. Severus Snape had been replaced with a man named Slughorn, and still, Verena remained cold.

“Oh, good. Potter and his little girlfriend are here,” Draco muttered. He was only a few feet away. Pandora was sure he meant for her to hear him.

Pandora grit her teeth together. “Sorry?”

“You heard me,” He spat. “The new girl going for the Chosen One? Sounds a bit suspicious, if you ask me. It’ll wear off soon enough.”

“What will?” She snapped, nearly shoving past other students as she walked toward him. She stopped a foot in front of him, lifting her eyebrow and willing him to continue his accusations.

“A wizard’s infatuation with a mudblood.” His eyes were as gray as stone -- a Malfoy trait. One of the dominant genes, along with the icy blond hair. He would continue the path that his ancestors had laid out for him. Serve the Dark Lord. Be second-in-command for as long as He reigned. She was sure he would have cleaned the Dark Lord’s oxfords if he’d asked him to.

That was, if she didn’t kill him first.

“Do you ever get any new insults, Malfoy?” Hermone cut in, breaking Pandora’s train of thought.

“She doesn’t belong in Slytherin,” Draco insisted. He never broke eye contact with her, and it occurred to him that her eyes were dark obsidian, as opposed to the brown color he’d assumed they were. He could barely differentiate between her pupil and her iris. It was like staring into a pool of darkness. If he allowed himself to fall, he was sure he would never find his way out.

He was sure he’d recognized her from somewhere. Ivory skin, dark hair, and eyes as black as volcanic rock. He knew those features -- and yet, he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

“Coming from the Prince of Slytherin himself?” She narrowed her eyes, and despite her anger, her eyes remained the same. “Where do you think I belong then?”

“That’s quite enough, the two of you,” Slughorn cut them off. Pandora and Draco broke eye contact, snapping their heads toward the old man. Verena pulled on Draco’s elbow, forcing him to move away from Pandora. They sent each other a quick glare before moving to their designated sides of the room.

Slughorn went on to blab about the potions they’d be making, and Pandora ran her fingers along the curves of her wand. She would need to cast a charm or spell soon. Within the hour. On the hour. Her gaze wandered around the room as she searched for any excuse to use magic.

“We’ll be working with amortentia,” Slughorn announced, as if half the class wasn’t already aware. She wasn’t sure how intelligent it was to give a class of hormonal sixth-years access to the most powerful love potion in existence. Her eyes drifted to Romilda Vane, who’d been eyeing Harry since she first arrived. “It is a more complex spell, so I think you’d best work with a partner.”

“Would you want to…?” Harry turned to Pandora, but Slughorn interrupted before she could respond.

“Actually, I think Miss Uso would be better off working with Mr. Malfoy.” His very sentence made her want to hex him.

Pandora scowled at the old man. “I beg your pardon?”

“Can’t have anymore arguments during class time, can we?” Slughorn said with a smile. A snarl nearly ripped from Pandora’s lips.

“It’s all right,” Harry ensured, giving her a trusting look. “Just be wary. He’s dangerous.”

“I can protect myself, Harry,” She muttered, making her way across the room. She begrudgingly took a seat. She huffed as Malfoy took a seat on her right, adjusting the sleeves of her robes. “Just shut up and let me do the work, all right?”

Francis had never actually taught her to make amortentia. Lilith and Midas had instructed that he specifically teach her the Dark Arts. Anything she would need to survive the Wizarding World -- Hogwarts or otherwise. She’d never needed a love potion. She’d never needed love.

Still, surely there wasn’t much of a difference between poison and amortentia. They both resulted in death -- only, poison worked much faster. And she was sure it was far less painful.

“If you think I’m trusting you with this class, you’re mad,” Draco sneered, pulling her potions book away from her. “What do you know about this class anway? I’m sure everything you learned was in a different language, anyway.”

“You can’t translate spells,” Pandora scoffed. She stole the book back, mindlessly flipping through the pages. “You're almost as bad as a mud--”

He lifted an eyebrow at her, but stayed quiet. She cleared her throat and began preparing the ingredients, reaching for the peppermint at the end of the table. After a moment, he spoke again. “You said you were from Japan, was it?”

“Korea,” She corrected, having already perfected her script. “Unfortunately, the school they’d had wasn’t up to par. My parents thought it would be best if I attended Mahoutokoro.”

“I’ve heard about that school.” He was lying. “What house were you in?”

“Shunrai,” She sprinkled the disgusting powder into the cauldron, barely affected by his questions. Surely he wasn’t so stupid that he thought she wouldn’t know everything already. “Though, I was nearly placed in Toppuu. I suppose I was always meant to be in S houses.”

“And I suppose you speak Japanese then?”

“Yes.” ‘No.’

“So, an English name, a Japanese surname, and Korean blood.” He was starting to get suspicious of just who this girl really is. Pandora shifted, nearly crushing the ashwinder egg between her fingers. Her gaze flickered to Harry, who had been paired with Verena. He wasn’t listening. “It’s an interesting combination, don’t you think?”

“My mother is part English, actually. Came from London.” Lilith and Midas were completely Korean. They’d travelled to England when they were in their teen years, and they hadn’t gone back since.

“London?”

Of all the things she could have been bad at, it had to be lying. “Yes. I haven’t seen much of it but she liked it quite a bit.”

“So not only were your parents muggles, they were from London.” Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust.

She hated to even be compared to those muggles; but they were sat in the middle of a classroom, Slughorn standing only a few feet away. If she were exposed now, only a few weeks into her mission, Midas wouldn’t hesitate. Pandora leaned over the desk, intent on grabbing a small bowl of crushed poonstone, but accidentally brushed against Draco’s left arm. He winced, immediately pulling his arm to his chest.

That confirmed it then. He had been chosen. The Dark Mark was sensitive in the first few months. Branding it into one’s arm was a painful process, and the healing process wasn’t much better. Merely breathing on it would send one into a fit of tears. She was lucky to have been chosen earlier. She couldn’t remember much.

“Apologies, I didn’t know you didn’t like being touched,” She’d said it mockingly. If he was going to poke fun at her new identity, she would do the same. Her eyes flickered between Draco and Pansy. “Especially with how much affection Pansy Parkinson shows you in the common room.”

“Jealous, Uso?” He lifted an eyebrow, as if to challenge her.

Pandora took a bit of the moonstone powder between her fingers, spraying it in Draco’s face. He let out a started noise, and she couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of him desperately trying to wipe it off with his sleeve.

“I don’t feel jealousy, Malfoy.” She rubbed her fingers together, trusting that the oil would force the powder to disintegrate. She took a moment to look at him from head-to-toe. “And anyway, what would I have to be jealous over?”

Not that she would ever admit it out loud, Draco wasn’t necessarily unattractive. He was actually quite handsome -- more than she would expect for a Malfoy. In fact, he was almost flawless, his skin icy white, eyes as bright as a full moon-- if it weren’t for the incurable angst. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him smile.

“I don’t understand why Verena’s friends with you,” Draco muttered.

“Perhaps she likes my company more than yours.”

“There’s nothing to like.”

“Not that you would know,” Pandora fired back. “This is the first time you’ve spoken more than three words to me.”

“Because I don’t want to associate myself with you,” He pointed out.

“Yes, you’d rather associate yourself with Parkinson.” She paused then, motioning to the girl across the room. “I’d be careful, if I were you. She was trying to sneak a love potion into your juice the other day. It was quite funny.”

“And you stopped it?”

“Well, you’re frustrating enough already. I couldn’t have you whining on about Pansy while I’m trying to eat my supper, now could I?”

He was quiet then, his mind calculating all the possible ways to thank her. It wasn’t as if she needed it. She truly didn’t want to hear him blabbing about how much he was infatuated with the Slytherin girl. Too many times had Pansy Parkinson gotten in her way when she’d gone to leave the girl’s dormitory to meet Harry. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d nearly hexxed the little girl.

Finally, he muttered, “I suppose you want me to thank you?”

“I don’t need your thanks, Malfoy,” She murmured, stirring the cauldron with a small wooden spoon. She sprinkled a bit more rosethorn into the pot. “Just learn to shut up once in a while.”

Draco frowned, glancing back down at his textbook. “Should you be using that much? The book only says to use a few pinches.”

“What’s the difference between a pinch and a sprinkle?”

“Too much rosethorn could create an entirely different outcome,” Draco pointed out, pulling the thorn out of her hand and tossing it onto the table. “Everybody knows that.”

“Well, excuse me. I’ve never made a bloody love potion before,” She groaned, grabbing her wand and putting out the fire that warmed the cauldron.

“What? They don’t give you a Potions class in Korea?”

“They do, but we’ve never had to make love potions.”

He leaned forward. “I thought you said you went to school in Japan.”

Pandora sucked in a breath, prepared to conjure up some sort of lie. Or use the Silencing Spell on him. Before she could decide, she had screams from the hallway, and she froze. Her eyes drifted to the clock at the opposite corner of the room, and she quickly waved her wand in Romilda’s direction. “Confundus.”

Romilda dropped several bits of moonstone into her love potion, thus rendering it useless. Pandora grinned and turned her attention back to the screams. The students immediately rushed out of the classroom, despite Slughorn’s warnings. Pandora followed afterward, marching alongside Draco and Verena towards the back of the line. The screams became louder as they walked toward the library, and she was able to make out one word in particular.

“Fire.”

Smoke began to fill the halls, and Pandora lifted her sleeve to her mouth in an effort to breathe. Verena coughed, her breath catching in her throat. “We should go back to the Common Room. Whatever it is, someone else will be able to handle it.”

“That’s if it doesn’t spread to the dungeons,” Draco pointed out. “It’s not as if these bastards care much for Slytherins anyway. We could all be burnt to ashes and they wouldn’t blink an eye.”

“You’re being harsh.”

“I’m being truthful,” He said, stopping in his tracks. The smoke began to vanish, and they dropped their robes from their mouths. “Do you honestly think they care about us? Or can you just ignore the fact that all the other houses hate our guts?”

Verena bit the inside of her cheek, and the three resumed their walk to the library -- or at least, what was left of it. The room had been burnt to ashes -- every book torn, the shelves blackened with smog. The carpet was covered with broken pieces of furniture, leftover books and torn pieces of paper.

The Kouame girl swallowed, making her way towards the window in an effort to get some air. She stopped when she saw a shadow in the sky, nearly choking on her breath as she grabbed Draco’s arm.

Draco walked over, his eyes following her gaze until they stopped just above the castle. Just above the astronomy tower was none other than clouds forming the Dark Mark: a human skull, with a snake wrapped around the sides and coming out of its mouth. Pandora’s brows furrowed at the sight and she quickly glanced down at her wand, confused at what had happened.

“Still don’t believe there’s a war?” Draco asked his close friend. He’d made an effort to sound patronizing, but he sounded a bit terrified.

“Come on,” Verena pulled on his wrist, tears welling up in her eyes. Pandora frowned. “We have to go. We have to hide.”

“And where would we go?” He asked. “To your home? Mine? Where could we go that’s safe, Verena? Tell me.”

“We could go to the muggle world.” Her words came out rugged, as if she’d struggled to even say the words aloud. She spun to Pandora and asked, “There’s no war in Japan, right? He couldn’t find us there.”

“What? And you think he’ll just stop in England?” Draco scoffed. “You think he won’t try to expand to Bulgaria? Or Russia? Or anywhere that wizards and witches exist?”

“Why are you being so negative?”

“Why are you being so naive? You knew there was a war the moment Diggory died. You were just too afraid to admit it.”

Pandora felt someone appear next to her and she turned to see Harry. He raised his hand to tug on her arm, stating, “We should leave.”

“I can’t leave,” Pandora responded, shaking her head as Draco and Verena’s insults grew louder. She and Harry shared a look and they raised their wands, yelling out, “Flipendo!”

Both Draco and Verena were knocked back, landing on opposite sides of the corridor. Pandora sighed, tucking her wand back into her robes and ignoring the glares sent her way. Harry took her hand and led her away, though she was unsure as to where.

“I’m not sure if anyone’s told you about Death Eaters yet,” Harry said, anxiety dripping off his lips. He was sure she would leave her the moments she found out. “They’re followers. His followers -- Voldemort’s, I mean. They’ve been wreaking havoc across the Wizarding World lately.”

“I suppose I chose the worst time to move into town then,” Pandora chuckled.

“Well, it’s not the best,” Harry admitted, laughing under his breath. Though, he wasn’t sure if it was out of nervousness or true enjoyment. “Anyway, they’re branded with the Dark Mark. Whenever they cause something terrible to happen, they like to show it off. Spell the clouds or whatever so the mark appears.”

“How would one even do that?”

“Not sure,” He said, then stopped in his tracks when they were alone. Harry turned to her and took a breath, his next words coming out shaky and terrified. “Look, being around me puts people in danger. It’s your first year at Hogwarts. I don’t want you to--”

“I can handle myself, Harry,” Pandora sighed, lifting her hands to rest on Harry’s shoulders. “Trust me.”

“You don’t understand. The lives of me and my friends have been threatened every year,” He tried. “I’ve had friends that have died because of me.”

“And I don’t doubt that,” She assured him. “But I’m staying by your side no matter what. I don’t scare easily, Potter.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Harry commented, his hands awkwardly fiddling with his robes. “You dealt with Malfoy rather well. I would’ve thought I’d hear more yelling. He’s a pest when it comes to blood status.”

Pandora shrugged. “He’s just a boy. Not dangerous at all, if you ask me.”

He nodded, though it was clear he didn’t entirely believe her. He pulled away from her touch, replacing it by holding his arm out to her. “We should go. They’ll be checking wands soon.”

“Where are you dragging me, Potter?”

“We can hide out in the Gryffindor tower until wand checks are over,” Harry continued to usher Pandora towards the stairs. “Trust me, you’re better off coming with me.”

“The towers, Potter?” Pandora smirked at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to shag me.”

A laugh spilled from her lips when Harry tripped over his own feet, nearly landing on his face. She hadn’t meant it in the slightest -- but Merlin, had she enjoyed his reaction. “I’m joking! I’ll come with you to the towers, just don’t break your leg when I do it.”

“Better a leg than a nose,” Harry muttered under his breath. Pandora chose not to question it, following him down the halls and up several flights of stairs. It was in his dorm that she caught sight of the disappearing Dark Mark in the sky, a few bits of light from inside the castle forcing it to fade away. She bit her lip, running her fingers along her sleeves, where her bandages would have been.

“Who could have done this?” Pandora took a seat on Harry’s bed, watching as the mark vanished from the sky. A few wizards waved their wand and it had disappeared without a trace. She was almost envious.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “But we’ll find out. I promise.”


	8. vi. crossroads

❝ last night, i held atlas in my  
lap, and whispered, 'where does  
it hurt?' it answered everywhere ❞

THE CASTLE WAS QUIET in the days following. Some days, Pandora would sit at the Gryffindor table -- an effort to gain the trust of Hermione and Ron. She'd sit with Amani and Verena again during supper, though Draco had started to avoid meals all together. She was sure she could chalk it up to the argument Verena and Draco had in the halls, though even Amani seemed to steer clear of the conversation.

The wand check had gone by quickly. Dumbledore had found the two in the dormitory just before lunch, but he hadn't found anything too suspicious. She'd managed to escape before he could comment on their relationship -- though, the most they'd done was sit against his headboard, holding hands. She supposed it was better than Dumbledore asking Harry if he were dating Hermione.

Pandora took a bite of the roast chicken on her plate, one hand resting above Harry's as he continued a conversation with Ron and Hermione. They'd been arguing about some sort of curse on a girl named Katie Bell. She couldn't bring herself to pay too much attention.

It was only when a letter fell into her lap that she managed to snap back into reality. She glanced up, only to see a small first-year with a bag of envelopes. "Thank you."

The first-year nodded and rushed away. She frowned, glancing down at the Slytherin green sweater vest she'd worn that day. She lifted her hand from Harry's, lifting the small letter up to her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the familiar black wax seal. Pandora lifted her fingers to trace over the Mortis family crest. It was as if she could feel iron burning into her arm -- a reminder that she was, and always would be, a Mortis.

"Is everything all right?" Harry asked, setting down his cup of pumpkin juice. Pandora nodded, tucking the letter into her pocket.

She gave him a light smile, resting her hand on his shoulder and rubbin it comfortingly. "Perfect. What are we talking about?"

"Katie Bell," Ron explained. He leaned against the dining table, his face twisted with worry. "We don't know for sure who did it."

"I saw Malfoy at the Three Broomsticks," Harry insisted, his muscles tensing under her fingers. She let her hand fall and Harry leaned forward, sure of himself. "Who else could have cursed her?"

"The Three Broomsticks isn't protected to the extent that Hogwarts is," Pandora cut in. "Anyone could have done it. Regardless, what would he want with Katie Bell? She's a half-blood Gryffindor."

It had occurred to her, not too long ago, that Draco Malfoy might have been the cause of the school's Dark Mark, or the family crest carved into her arm. The theory was debunked rather quickly. Malfoy had looked terrified when he saw the library being engulfed by flames, and the spell that caused the branding in her arm was far too advanced for someone of Malfoy's talents. Regardless, she hadn't had a chance to speak to him yet.

After their failed attempt at amortentia, Slughorn had made her and Malfoy's partnership a permanent state. He had all but refused to attend class in the days following, and she couldn't be bothered to approach him in the Common Room. He was up to his neck in first-year Slytherins and Pansy Parkinson -- though, he never seemed to enjoy the attention. It was no wonder he snuck back into the corridors so late.

"What's wrong with being a half-blood Gryffindor?" Harry frowned.

Pandora nearly choked on her food. "Oh, I see nothing wrong, personally. I'm just not so sure Malfoy would go out of his way to curse a complete stranger. What would he have to gain?"

"Well, Katie was delivering it to Dumbledore."

"And what would Malfoy have to gain from cursing Dumbledore?" Quite a bit, actually. The Dark Lord likely wanted him dead -- considering the power he held over the Wizarding World. If Malfoy's initiation task was to assassinate the Headmaster of Hogwarts, she was almost envious.

Hermione sighed, setting down her fork and knife. "Harry thinks Draco is a Death Eater."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, his father was a Death Eater," Ron offered. "But he was sent to Azkaban not too long ago."

"Let's just drop this," Hermione said, noticing the look of confusion Pandora had on her face. Harry went to speak, and she cut him off. "No one's going to take you seriously without evidence, Harry, and Katie Bell is still at the hospital wing."

"Hermione, we still have to look at the possibility!"

"Hermione's right, Harry," Pandora turned to look at him. "We can't accuse someone based on their parentage. Otherwise you're no better than Malfoy."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, and Pandora was sure she'd said the wrong thing. She quickly turned her eyes away, unable to face the anger that had ignited in Harry's eyes just then. Instead, her attention fell to Ron, who was quick to change the subject. "While we're on the subject, what do your parents do, Pandora?"

"They're..." To be clear, she knew absolutely nothing about the muggle world. "Doctors."

"Doctors?" Ron exclaimed, his attention immediately catching on the silver jewelry she wore around her neck and fingers. "Bloody good doctors, aren't they? You're the richest muggle born here!"

"Old money." Pandora fiddled with the emerald pendant around her neck, swiftly tucking in into her shirt. Most of the jewelry she wore was an item Lilith had gone to throw away, but decided to give to her instead. She couldn't remember the last time she bought an item for herself -- not that she would have had the means to do so. "My family likes to invest -- you know, in land and such."

"My parents are dentists," Hermione told her. It hadn't occurred to Pandora that Hermione was a muggleborn until just then. It was easy to forget -- she and Amani were at the top of their classes. "Where did you say you lived?"

"Not quite sure, honestly. We had just moved when they sent me here. Haven't had the time to get to know the area," Pandora lied through her teeth. Thankfully, Ron quickly took the attention off her, all too worried about the next quidditch match. Her fingers drummed against the wooden table, her gaze falling back to Harry.

He was tense, shoulders slumped over his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. His forehead was scrunched together, fingers tightly gripping at the pages. His green eyes danced across the spells, little notes scrawled into margins by a so-called 'Half-Blood Prince.'

'Cocky bastard,' Pandora thought to herself. 'You correct a few notes in a potions textbook, and suddenly you're a prince. Almost as bad as Malfoy -- Malfoy?'

She shook her head, as if doing so would somehow erase her thoughts all together. After a moment, she lifted her hand, slowly placing it on Harry's arm to get his attention. She winced when he moved too quickly, snapping his head in her direction.

"Sorry," She apologized, the word rushing out of her mouth before she could stop it. It was almost instinctual. Pandora closed her hand, dropping it to her side. "I just... I had a question, is all."

"A question? I thought it was 'insult Harry day,' my mistake."

His tone was harsh -- cold. He hated her. She'd said the wrong thing, and now he would punish her for it. Pandora's hands went to her lap, gathering the cloth between her fingers and pulling at it. It was a familiar sort of fear; but the normality of it didn't make her any less terrified. He was the Chosen One. If he wanted to curse her, he had the means to do so.

"Harry, I never meant..." Her voice was shaky. She cleared her throat, taking a breath. There was no use in apologizing. She was sure he would just insult her. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well, that makes it less hurtful now that I know it wasnt with malicious intent. It's not like I want my girlfriend to stick up for me or anything."

Were girlfriends supposed to do that? It was rare that she saw Lilith and Midas in the same room, let alone arguing over a particular subject. She supposed that must have been her fault, then. Her eyes trailed to Harry's wand, which was tucked into his pocket. His hands were occupied, so he had no real way of reaching for it without her noticing.

"You know, I heard the prophecy," She continued hesitantly. Harry hadn't gone to glare at her, so she took it as a sign to continue. "It's a bit difficult to ignore when you're in Herbology, sitting in front of gossiping first years. Harry, when you said people died for you... did you mean your parents?"

His grip on the book loosened, and he shut it, tucking it underneath his arm. He was silent for a moment, and she swore she could see the gears in his head turning as she awaited his response. After what seemed like ages, he spoke. "No."

'No? How many wizards and witches had given their life for the Chosen One?'

He must've seen the confusion on her face, because he continued. "I'm sure a lot of people have died protecting me -- but there was this one boy in particular. Your friends with Amani, so I'm sure you've heard of him."

"Cedric Diggory," She breathed. The very name caused Harry to grimace. He stood from his seat, and Pandora followed after. She wasn't quite sure where they were going, but she knew better than to ask.

"A Death Eater put my name into the Goblet of Fire a few years ago," Harry explained. "I was chosen for the Triwizard Tournament -- me, Cedric, Victor Krum, and Fleur Delacour. They were all seventeen or older. They'd mastered spells I couldn't even dream of, and I was still struggling in Charms class."

Pandora stuffed her hands in her pockets, head bowed as she walked beside Harry. To a stranger, she might have looked like a told-off housepet.

"Everyone was cheering for Cedric. I don't blame them, I'd have cheered for him, too." His voice began to waver. Pandora hesitated, reaching for his arm and resting it on his bicep. He glanced back at her, his eyes filled with tears. "We helped each other during the first two tasks. I'm not sure I would've survived the second one without his help. We were meant to hold our breath underwater for an hour."

She winced at the thought. Francis had never held her underwater for longer than a few minutes.

Harry was crying now, and she moved closer, wrapping an arm tightly around his waist. "We nearly won. We grabbed the cup together, and we would've won it for Hogwarts; but it was a portkey. The same Death Eater that put my name into the Goblet of Fire, turned the Triwizard Cup into a port key to Tom Riddle's grave. Voldemort ordered Peter Pettigrew to 'kill the spare.' I got away but I couldn't leave... I couldn't leave his body with them. With Him."

His body shook with sobs. They stopped in their tracks and Pandora turned to face him. His face was flushed red, tears rushing down his face. She felt a stab in her chest, as if someone had shot her with the stinging spell. She wasn't quite sure how to handle it all -- she just knew she wanted it to stop.

"He died because of me." The sentence was hushed. He was saying it more to himself than anyone else. Pandora bit the inside of her cheek, raising her hands to Harry's face. She held it gently, as if she were caring for an expensive piece of glass, and wiped the tears from underneath his eyes with the pads of her thumbs.

There wasn't a spell to eliminate grief. Though, that didn't mean her mind wasn't racing with ways to create one. There was something unbearable about seeing him this way: his face in her hands, eyes bloodshot, sobbing over a boy he would never get back.

Harry's breathing grew more ragged. Unsure of what else to do, she pulled him to her chest. His head fell over her shoulder, his hands wrapping around her torso and grasping at the cloth on her back. He was warm, and smelled of treacle tart, pumpkin juice, and light cologne. The kind she was sure you could find at a cheap shoppe in the Muggle World. It worked on him, though. He smelled lovely.

She raised her hand to his head, tangling itself in his hair. She used her other hand to keep him close, as if he would disappear if she let go too quickly. Even as his breathing grew steady, they held each other close -- sure that the only place the other person would be protected was in their arms. For a moment, Pandora forgot her bit of the mission. Told herself there was no war, no Chosen One, no family name or Death Eaters.

Then, she felt it -- like a sharp blade carving into her arm, ripping at her flesh and tears into her nerves. Her jaw fell open, and while Harry's back was to her, she pulled down the sleeve of her right arm. The Mortis crest had healed days ago, and she hadn't had to wear bandages over it either. Now, it seemed to have reopened, this time carved rather than burned. Blood dripped down from her arm, falling onto the castle floors.

Pandora pulled down the sleeve of her button-up, pulling away from Harry's embrace and hiding it behind her. Her eyes were filled with tears now, and Harry didn't look much better.

"Would you mind taking me back to my dormitory?" She asked, and the question itself felt like too much. She leaned over to wipe away the tears on his face, forcing her face to remain calm despite the blood seeping through her white shirt.

Despite the circumstances, he looked more relaxed. His nose was red and shiny from the tears, glasses fogged over. He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. "Well, we're already on our way."

It was then that she realized they were walking down the passageway to the Slytherin common room. She breathed a laugh and nodded, motioning for Harry to walk in front of her. He gave her an odd look, but obliged.

The pain stopped after a few minutes, and she was all too grateful for the training that had allowed her a higher pain tolerance than most wizards. Before she entered the dorms, she placed a small kiss on Harry's nose, hoping that in doing so, they would solve the argument they'd had earlier. Francis had never accepted apologies when he was angry -- neither did Lilith nor Midas. Usually she accepted her punishments and it would have been enough, but she wasn't sure she could bear a punishment from Harry Potter.

"Pureblood," She said, and the black doors opened before her. The common room was mostly empty, as most of the students had either gone to get dinner or retreated to their dorms. The only sound that filled the room was the crackling of the fire, the only thing that warmed the dungeons of the castle.

'The dungeons,' Pandora laughed to herself. Of all the ways Hogwarts could have shown their distaste towards Slytherins, they'd chosen to put them in the dungeons.

She raised her forearm to her side, pulling back the bloodsoaked sleeve. She suddenly felt lightheaded, pushing her back against the doors of the Common Room. "Ferula," She managed through gritted teeth. White bandages wrapped themselves around her arm, and she choked down a sob as they tightened. Pandora groaned and tightened her fingers around her wand, resisting the urge to snap it all together.

Someone must have been watching them, ensuring that she followed through with her mission. She must have shown some sort of weakness, but it wasn't as if anyone at the school knew her true identity outside of Malfoy. If there were other Death Eaters at the school, she hadn't been able to spot them, and the Mortis family had isolated themselves from society for years. If they'd sent a spy to Hogwarts to watch over her, it surely couldn't have been a student.

Perhaps it could have been Severus Snape, but then she was positive he hadn't been at the quidditch match nor the corridor when her mark reopened. And regardless, he held no loyalty to her parents. He seemed much more focused on Harry than he was on her.

Pandora was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a door shut, and she quickly pulled down the sleeve of her shirt, hiding it behind her body. Only then did she realize it was Amani, coming out of the girls' dormitories. She furrowed her brows, having sworn she saw Verena sitting in the Great Hall not moments ago. "Amani?"

Amani turned toward her, surprised. "Oh. What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Pandora said, as if it were obvious. She motioned to the Slytherin crest sewn into her sweater. "Shouldn't you be at dinner?"

"No, I wasn't hungry." She was lying. She knew it, and Pandora knew it, too. After a long moment, she sighed. "I couldn't leave the dormitory."

Pandora lifted an eyebrow, placing her left arm on her hip. "Why not?"

"Verena said it wasn't safe." Amani stopped, hoping her explanation had been enough. When Pandora looked at her with a deadened stare, she knew it wasn't. She continued, "I was going back up to my dorm the other night, and there was something on my bed. I didn't know what it was, so I thought it was a prank. The underclassmen got pretty excited at Fred and George's joke shop. They've been messing with people all year."

"Verena is having you stay in the Slytherin dormitories because of a few underclassmen?"

"It wasn't the underclassmen," Amani said with a sigh. She wrung her hands together, a coping mechanism Pandora had picked up on a few weeks ago. "It was a Death Eater. They left a dead snake on my bed. I managed to get rid of it before anyone would notice, but..."

It was easy to forget Amani was a muggleborn. In fact, if it hadn't been for her name, Pandora would have assumed she were a pureblood. She was intelligent and well-versed in wizard teachings. It was difficult, knowing that she would have to watch Amani die one day. She wouldn't deserve it.

"Don't you think you'd be in more danger here?" Pandora questioned, her eyes shifting to the green crest hung above the fireplace.

Amani shrugged then. "I didn't want to argue with her. She's been upset lately. Something about an argument with Draco."

"Right." That was a topic she preferred not to get into. Pandora cleared her throat and made her way to the girl's dormitory, holding her arm away from Verena's sight. Before she could reach the door, she heard her yell out.

"Have you eaten today?"

Pandora's brows furrowed in confusion. What did it matter if she ate today? It wasn't as if she'd had anything to offer her. "Sorry?"

"Have you eaten today?" Amani repeated, her voice steady despite the situation around them. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag of chocolate-chip cookies. "I took these from the Great Hall before everyone flooded in. Verena promised to bring me a plate, so I won't need them."

She'd never had chocolate chip cookies before. "You didn't put anything in them, did you?"

Amani laughed, placing the bag into Pandora's open hand and pushing it towards her. "Quit joking around, of course I didn't."

Pandora wasn't joking at all. She remembered the first she'd tried sweets. She couldn't have been any older than eleven at the time. It was a few hours before supper, and she'd finished tutoring early, so Francis had let her roam around the mansion for a bit. She only remembered the flavor -- bitter, before she felt it burning her tongue. She couldn't remember much from that day, only that she had to drink three different elixirs before she was back to health.

She supposed she ought to get used to people's kindness. It had only been a few weeks and Harry had asked her to go for butterbeer again three separate times. She was sure he would die from a sugar rush faster than he would die from the prophecy.

"Thank you," She said, going to shove the bag into her pocket. Before she went to go back to her bedroom, she glanced back at Amani.

The girl had made herself comfortable on the common room couch, wrapping a green comforter around her body. She was sure the girl was smart enough to protect herself -- but it didn't mean she was powerful enough to do so. That had been the difference between her and Hermione Granger. While they were both brilliant, Amani had a much lighter sense of morality. She wouldn't fire a curse if her life depended on it.

"Let me repay you," Pandora said after a moment. Amani turned back to her, and she continued. "Butterbeer. Harry took me once, and I've been meaning to go back. I don't suppose you'll be busy on Friday?"

"The Death Eaters--"

"Will be taken care of," She cut her off. Before Amani could object any further, Pandora made her way inside the corridor and walked toward her bedroom. She twisted the knob, pushing the door open and pulled up the sleeve of her shirt, ready to toss the ruined garment.

Then she heard it. Breathing. Pandora stopped to hold her breath, pushing her hair behind her ear. She'd left a candle burning just before she left -- one that smelled of iris and black lily. Instead, her room smelled of dragonskin shoes, green apples, and expensive cologne. She rolled her eyes.

"It's rude to trespass," Pandora stated. She waved her wand in the direction of her candles, and they flickered alive. Stood across the room from her was none other than Draco Malfoy. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You think you've got everyone fooled," Draco stated, wrinkling his nose. He raised his wand, pointing it in her direction. He was terrified. "You're a Death Eater, aren't you?"

"You're being ridiculous," She rolled her eyes, pressing her back against the door. Of course she was.

"I know your family," He said through gritted teeth. "Mortis, isn't it? A pureblood family from South Korea. They joined the Death Eaters years ago, they've been loyal ever since. My mother says they had a daughter, too, around my age; but they were solitary. They only saw your parents at the meetings, and even then, they never talked much."

"They prefer to speak with their actions," Pandora told him. "I'm not sure you can judge my bloodline too much, Malfoy. At least they never went to Azkaban."

"Why are you here?"

"Drop your wand," She commanded. He stared at her, his hand shaking. She chuckled, raising her wand up to his eyes, and tossed across the room. It landed beneath her dresser with a thud, and she looked back at him, lifting an eyebrow. This conversation wouldn't work if they didn't trust each other, and she was awful at wandless spells.

Draco hesitated, but let his wand fall to his side. After another few moments, he tossed it into the bed, too far out of reach for either of them to get to.

"I would have you make an unbreakable vow, but if you've heard of my family, you know better than to cross me," Pandora said. She took a step towards him and watched as he swallowed his fear.

"I'm a Malfoy."

"I know what you are," She confirmed. "But my family's history is shrouded in question marks, and I'm sure that terrifies you; but I don't need you to be terrified of me. So, what do you want to know?"


	9. vii. godless

❝ what would people look like if we  
could see them as they are, soaked  
in honey and swollen, reckless,  
pinned against time? ❞

“MY FAMILY DOESN’T HAVE quite the same history as yours.” Pandora moved from her spot by the door, making her way towards her desk. Draco kept his place by the window, stiff as a statue. In any other context, she might have laughed. “My parents were born in Gangnam-gu, South Korea. Our family was comfortable, really. We had everything we would ever need. A pure bloodline, magic, more money than someone could ever dream of having.”

She motioned to the jewelry box beside her bed. Necklaces and bracelets were strewn about carelessly, obsidian and emerald pendants gleaming in the candlelight. Draco raised an eyebrow, reaching for a thick silver ring at the end of the wooden table. “All of this is yours?”

“My mother’s, then mine,” She corrected. “We should’ve been thankful, but my parents wanted more. A name. A title. The wizarding community in Korea was small, but it was difficult to become powerful -- it was even more difficult to keep a proper bloodline. They have a tendency to interact with muggles; so when they heard of the Dark Lord, they moved here. Dedicated their lives to serving the Great Lord Voldemort.”

“You don’t fear him?” Draco scoffed in disbelief.

“I’ve only met him once,” She shrugged. “If it helps, I do respect him. He’s strong, powerful. I’m sure he’ll win the war, and the world will be taken over by Death Eaters.”

Harry Potter was a powerful wizard -- the Chosen One. He knew magic but it was defensive. He didn’t have the heart to cast the Killing Curse, not when it counted. The Dark Lord wouldn’t hesitate, and she was sure that one day, she would see his head on a spike. The thought had never affected her before, but she felt a tightening in her throat when she realized it.

“Optimistic, are we?” He muttered.

“I was sent here to weaken him,” Pandora reminded him. Draco stared at her, confusion painted across his pale features. “Voldemort allowed my parents to become Death Eaters, but they were low in the ranks. They were wealthy and they were purebloods, but they were foreigners. They didn’t look like they belonged.”

Draco raised his eyebrows at the girl, not completely understanding what she meant. Pandora glanced at him through the corner of her eye, narrowing her gaze.

“Look at yourself, Malfoy,” Pandora said. “Hair as white as ice, eyes gray as stone. What’s the difference between you and me?”

In the flickering candlelight, he analyzed her. Her hair was long and dark, falling in perfected waves to the small of her back. Her ivory skin was glassy, and he swore she was more porcelain doll than human. In the darkness, her eyes were as black as rock, a stark contrast to the whites of her eyes. Her every feature was crafted to perfection, and he couldn’t imagine a world where they weren’t equals.

And then he remembered it. Her parents had been born in a different country, they’d spoken a different language. She’d been born with different features. The Death Eaters that he’d seen had been purely European. She wasn’t.

“We weren’t Malfoys, or Blacks, or Lestranges,” She said, folding her hands over her lap. “We have to work twice as hard to get half of the privilege you have. How old were you when you were chosen?”

She nodded to his forearm, where the Dark Mark had been branded into his skin. Draco’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists. “I don’t have to tell you that.”

Pandora rolled her eyes, irritated at his stubbornness. She unbuttoned the cuff on her left arm, pulling it just above her forearm. Draco refused to look down, their eyes trained on each other. When she refused to break under his gaze, he let his eyes fall. Just underneath the crease of her elbow, was a black image branded into her skin. A small black skull, a snake protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

The Dark Mark. Granted only to Voldemort’s most loyal followers.

“You’re reckless for a Death Eater.” She would kill him. She was a monster -- sent to watch him. Surely she would go back to Him, and He would have him killed. “How do you know I won’t go to Dumbledore and have you expelled? Or thrown in Azkaban?”

“Because you cursed that Gryffindor girl.” She spoke so monotonously. Draco had nearly killed Katie Bell, and here she was -- speaking about it as if it were nothing. “If I’m reckless, what does that make you?”

“It’s not easy to kill someone,” He spat.

“All it takes is a spell,” Pandora said.

“And what would you know?” Draco spat. Despite his instincts, he took a step toward her. “You’re just a girl. This is your first year at Hogwarts and you’re barely passing Potions.”

“You’ve never heard of private tutors?” She rose from her seat, her body moving to a defensive position. “When my parents heard the Prophecy of the Chosen One, they constructed a plan. They knew they needed to show their loyalty to Him, so they changed their names; and the same year that the Chosen One was born, they had a daughter. They kept me home -- trained me in the Dark Arts, defensive and offensive spells. I needed to be the ideal soldier for the Dark Lord.”

It was then that he noticed her bloodstained sleeve, red seeping through her fresh bandages. Draco swallowed, and looked back at her face. Her expression was different from the one he saw when she was around Potter. It was blank, emotionless. She’d had the face of a statue, immortalized in time.

“The plan was always to send me to Hogwarts one year before the war. The Chosen One needed to be weakened; distracted. What distracts a teenage boy more than a girl?”

“And that doesn’t insult you?” He questioned.

“It’s my task,” Pandora said. “You’re being used as an assassin. I don’t see you complaining.”

“I was chosen.”

“As was I,” She snapped. “I was born for this. You’re not above me just because things come naturally to you.”

Draco straightened his back. He was chosen a few months ago, one week before he had to return to Hogwarts for his sixth year. At first, he assumed it was an honor. Amongst the sea of Death Eaters, Voldemort had chosen him -- to ensure that Bellatrix and her followers would infiltrate Hogwarts, and Albus Dumbledore would die. It had been an honor until he realized the stakes.

If Albus Dumbledore wasn’t killed by the end of the year, Draco would take his place.

“So, what?” He took another step towards her, and became all too aware of the scent of perfume, old books, and iris that hung in the air. Her dark eyes narrowed, her body moving into a defensive stance.

“What have I told you about coming into my office without asking?” Midas took a step toward her, obsidian eyes focused on the silver pendant Pandora held in her hand. Her breath caught in her throat and she became keenly aware of the room around her.

The coldness of the pendant, the softness of the rug, the taste of copper on her tongue.

Pandora looked up to see Midas only a few inches away from her face. In his right hand, he held his wand and pressed it against her throat.

“I suggest you take a step back,” Pandora snarled, reaching for her wand. She held it out in front of her, curses running through her brain, nearly dripping off her tongue. An alarm seemed to be going off in her brain, screaming that there was danger, despite the fact that the only other person in the room was Malfoy.

“And what are you gonna do about it, Mortis?”

Any shred of humanity seemed to vanish, and if she had simply flipped a switch. “STUPIFY!”

Draco proceeded to fly backwards, landing onto the bed among the silky green sheets. He glanced around him, his eyes locking on his wand. Instinctively, he grabbed it. Before he could think of a spell, he heard her voice.

“I wouldn’t,” She warned.

“Fine,” Draco huffed. “Have it your way.”

He pushed himself off the bed, straightening his jacket and collar. He shoved his wand in his pocket, hitting Pandora’s shoulder on the way out. He had just reached for the doorknob when Pandora’s hand swung behind her, grabbing Draco’s.

“Sorry,” She said, begrudgingly. Apologies had never come easy to her. “I just. I don’t appreciate people being in my face, all right?”

“And I don’t appreciate people yelling defensive spells at me, but we don’t all get what we want. I’m sure you, Little Miss Perfect, wouldn’t know what that’s like.” He was turned to face the wall, glaring at it forcefully. He was sure that if looks could kill, the thing would have disintegrated into ashes.

His words were harsh, cutting deeper than any spell or knife could. Pandora pulled on his hand, and they both spun to face each other. The look of anger had faded away, and in its wake, had left behind a teenage girl. “I have trained my whole life to become this -- worked myself to the bone. You can’t even begin to imagine the things I’ve gone through.”

Draco was becoming more agitated with every word leaving her stupid mouth. She had the audacity to look him in the eyes and throw some sort of pity party -- after all that she had. After all that she’d gotten just in a few weeks at a school he’d attended for six years. “At least you have people who care about you, Mortis. All I had was a house elf.”

“What are you not understanding?” She let out a sarcastic laugh, and her grip on his hand loosened. He almost missed it. “You’re second in the class in Potions, and yet you are so bloody stupid.”

Before he could go to defend himself, she spoke again.

“Those people are not my friends. I am not here to make friends.” The words felt like acid on her tongue. Friends were for humans -- for muggles and mudbloods. She didn’t have any. She couldn’t. “I am here because I am tasked with weakening the Chosen One. My mission is to report back to the Death Eaters and cause chaos. That’s all.”

“Your parents sound no better than my father,” Draco laughed humorlessly.

“Lilith and Midas are my creators. They brought me into this world. They could very well remove me.” It was odd the way she spoke of herself -- of her parents. If she didn’t speak so monotonously, he would have sworn she was terrified. He wasn’t sure she had an identity outside of her parents. If she had, she’d refused to acknowledge it. “That’s the difference between you and I. My parents never intended to have a child.”

The room was silent, then, and Draco found himself fixating on the sound of candle wick burning on the chandelier above them. He glanced down at their interlocked hands, and noticed the bloodsoaked sleeve that hung a few inches above her wrist. Pandora noticed his gaze and lifted her arm to show the already dirtied bandages.

“There’s another Death Eater at Hogwarts. I assume they’re working for my parents,” Pandora explained.

“And you think it’s me?”

“Do you get your jollies from jumping to conclusions?” She questioned, pushing her sleeve down. The blood was beginning to try, staining her sleeve brown. “You didn’t know who I was until I told you. Of course it wasn’t you.”

“Who was it, then?”

She hesitated, her jaw tightening. “I’m not sure. I know you don’t care for me, but you care for Verena, and she cares for Amani. Someone has been attacking her -- another Death Eater, I’m sure -- and I’m positive they’re the same person who cursed me.”

Amani Yassin. Of course he knew her. She’d only been dating Verena since their third year at Hogwarts. If Draco had chosen to dislike her, he would have been forced to get over it. She was kind enough -- unlike the rest of the houses, she hadn’t stared at him as if he were some sort of villain.

“You don’t have to help me, but you’re a Malfoy. Your family is further up in the ranks. You would be able to find the names of other Death Eaters--”

He wasn’t sure why he said it. Perhaps it was the bloodied bandages wrapped around her wrist, or the vulnerability flickering on her once marble face -- perhaps it had been the smell of iris overwhelming his senses, ripping apart his inhibitions and taking control of his tongue.

“I’ll help you,” Draco had said, his mouth working faster than his head.

Pandora looked up at him, the corners of her lips twitching. She opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind, pressing her lips into a thin line. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white envelope, a black wax seal covering the front. Pandora held it out to him, and he took it between his fingers.

There was a large ‘M’ carved into the wax, surrounded by the skeleton of a snake. The snake formed itself into a circle, the mouth open and consuming the end.

“They chose ‘Mortis’ as a surname in order to appease the Dark Lord,” She said. “They’ve taken pride in it ever since.”

Draco lifted an eyebrow, running his thumb over the crest. “What was it originally?”

“Park.”

Their stony faces broke out into smiles, both letting out small laughs. Draco let the envelope fall to his side, looking back at the girl with a smile. All of her ego and intimidation -- a compensation for a bloodline with such a common surname. “Park?”

“You can see why they changed it,” Pandora said with a chuckle. “But then, anything is better than ‘Malfoy.’”

“It’s a name with history.”

“It’s a name with inbreeding,” She shot back. Pandora let go of Draco’s hand, crossing her arms over her chest. The look of relaxation faded away, and again, her face had turned to marble. “I’ll help you with your task.”

“I don’t need your help,” He insisted.

“You’re scared.”

Draco felt his throat tighten, and he moved away abruptly. The sudden movement caused Pandora to flinch, but she made no effort to stop him. He set the envelope down on the nearest table and made his way to the door. He wrapped his fingers around the metal knob, swallowing at the icy temperature in comparison to the girl’s warmth.

“I’ll see you in Potions tomorrow,” He managed, before pulling the door open and shutting it behind him.


	10. viii. war-torn

❝ you touch me, and suddenly i feel  
a little less war torn. i'm not sure what  
peace is supposed to feel like, but i  
think it may feel a lot like you ❞

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY this is so important to you,” Pandora said from her spot at the desks. She watched as Draco shuffled through the ingredients in Slughorn’s classroom, desperately searching from some sort of serpent venom. She pulled on the sleeves of her green knit sweater, crossing her arms over her chest.

She and Draco had been awake for hours. That morning, the pair had awoken and snuck into the Potions classroom in the hopes of creating a poison. Draco had all but refused to use the Killing Curse, instead opting to create a poison in the hopes of blaming it on Professor Slughorn.

“You’re creating a poison, Malfoy, not a bloody meal plan. What does it matter what creature we use?” Pandora shifted in her place, kicking at the floor with her heel. He had shown up at her door with a piece of parchment in his hand, potion directions scribbled onto the page. She wasn’t sure why she’d pulled herself out of bed -- why she hadn’t shut the door in his face and had him handle the poison in his own.

But he’d looked tired. Red veins surrounded his silver irises, dark circles littering the skin beneath his eyes. She didn’t quite trust that he would be able to create the potion on his own. There was always the chance he would get himself killed -- and in his mania, she was sure he would need supervision.

“I know this might be hard to grasp for someone like you, Mortis, but all venoms are created differently,” Draco said, wrinkling his nose at her. “Clearly your private tutors aren’t doing their job right, as if you paid attention in potions class you would know this.”

“If you paid attention in Potions,” She mocked, pulling her wand from her pocket. She pointed it at a nearby pot and muttered a few words, watching as the lid blew off and hit Draco on his shoulder. He turned to glare at her.

“Are you always such a pest?” Draco said through gritted teeth, turning away from the shelves. He wore a black dress shirt and matching pants -- while the color scheme wasn’t much different from how he looked during school hours, it was still a strange sight. “You could at least try to help.”

Pandora stared at him, a blank look on her face. He was a picture perfect Malfoy -- a picture perfect Slytherin. His every feature was a giveaway to his bloodline. His path had been laid out for him before he’d been born. After a moment, she said, “Do you have a favorite color?”

“I’ve never bothered to think about it before, it’s a muggle thing.” He said after a moment, reading through the labels of a few bottles.

“It’s not a muggle thing to like colors, Malfoy,” Pandora stated.

“What’s yours, then?”

She was silent, her eyes falling to her feet. Draco nodded, having been given his answer. Pandora cleared her throat and moved to the cauldrons, picking up the iron lid she had tossed at Draco and looking into the pot. Inside, a pink potion brewed, smoke lifting from the liquid and hitting her nose.

“Did that bastard leave something brewing overnight?” Draco asked.

“Amortentia,” She scoffed, quickly covering up the pot. Slughorn -- the damned fool -- had left the world’s most powerful love potion brewing in his classroom, weeks after they’d been assigned to make it. She glanced back at Draco, who was desperately searching through more vials. Pandora huffed, taking a step forward. “What serpent are we looking for, exactly?”

He barely glanced at her, fingers desperately searching through more cabinets. He spoke quickly, and Pandora could have sworn he hadn’t spoken at all. “Bloody hell, the Three-Headed Viper. Did you not listen to a word I said?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I was too busy admiring your excellence.” Sarcasm dripped from Pandora’s lips, glaring daggers in Draco’s direction. He turned his head quickly, shielding her from the red tint forming on his ivory cheeks

“I should end you right now,” He muttered, refusing to look back at her. “After all, your task could be done by any other Death Eater.”

Pandora’s lips turned upward, entertained by his antics. He wouldn’t have been able to kill her -- with or without a wand, she would have been able to overpower him. She moved toward him, resting her arm on his shoulder as her eyes scanned the bottles in front of her. “Do it, then.”

He ignored her, instead picking up a strangely colored vial. He held it up to his eyes, examining the dark black fluid inside the bottle. The corners of his lips pulled into a childlike grin. “Found it!”

There was something about his reaction that allowed something to possess her. He had sounded so childish -- all of his attempts to become some sort of villain’s novel, and here was, crying out in excitement that he’d found a small ingredient. Pandora’s look of mockery morphed into a smile, eyes crinkling at the edges as a laugh spilled through her lips.

“What was that?” Draco looked over to her, light brown eyebrows furrowing together. It occurred to her how close she was, and she backed away, letting her arm fall to her side. “Did the Great Pandora Mortis actually laugh?”

“You’re a bastard, Malfoy,” She said under her breath, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby table. Her eyes drifted from Draco, looking nowhere in particular. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Draco smile to himself. She felt her stomach twist at the sight, uneasiness crawling up her torso and burying itself in her throat.

“I should go,” She stated, pushing herself onto her feet.

“Why? Do you have somewhere more important to be?” He muttered, shoving the vial into his pocket along with a few ingredients he’d gathered on a nearby desk.

“Do you care?”

“No,” He snipped.

“All right then.” Pandora turned to face the doors, making her way out of the classroom and down the long corridors.

\-----

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO pay for these,” Amani said, staring down at the five cups of butterbeer Pandora set down on the table. She laughed nervously. “I’m not even sure I’ll drink this much.”

“They’re not all for you,” Pandora said blankly, then moved one cup toward Amani. She pulled the handles of the four other cups toward her, taking a sip of the caramel liquid as she sat down. Harry hadn’t gotten around to bringing her back to the Three Broomsticks, and it had been all too long since she’d gotten her hands on something sweet.

“Did you eat this morning? I don’t think you should have that much sugar on an empty stomach.” Amani stook a small sip of her butterbeer, then set it back down. She shrugged off her thick blue coat, placing it on the seat behind her.

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” She chuckled. “You know, I’m really glad you transferred to Hogwarts. With all the slurs being thrown around the school and the Slytherin table, I was starting to think I was the only muggleborn in the world.”

Pandora resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the reminder. It was far too easy to forget Amani’s blood status. A forced chuckle left her lips, and while she was sure Amani took notice, she didn’t mention it. “Why do you sit at the table if that's all you’re surrounded by? Blood supremacists, I mean.”

“Verena,” Amani answered, as if it was a question she’d asked herself a thousand times.

“Verena?” She repeated, her brows furrowing together. So much fuss over a simple friendship - one that could have been found at a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor table. While she was sure it had been a Death Eater that attacked Amani, it didn’t help that she was surrounded by supremacist Slytherins at every turn.

“If it isn’t obvious, the other houses don’t like Slytherins very much.” They both chuckled bitterly, and Amani continued. “They don’t like muggleborns very much either; but Verena was there for me. Always. I could never repay her for what she’s done for me. I started having feelings for her in my second year, I think. I didn’t think she felt the same way, but then she asked me to the Yule Ball in our fourth year.”

The Yule Ball. They were partners, then. Significant others.

Pandora fiddled with the handle of her glass. “You were surrounded by people that hated you for years. What was that like?”

“I’m a muggleborn. I can’t change my bloodline, and I’m not embarrassed of my parents. They’re good people.” Amani was more about her parents than anyone else. Even Ron and Verena were quiet about their family lives, and the most she’d gotten out of Harry was that he’d been raised by the Dursleys. “My father is a professor at Cambridge, and my mother works this office job in London.”

“What’s that like?” She asked, her eyes finally meeting Amani’s. She had soft, dark brown eyes. The color of chestnuts and the earth. They were warm and nurturing, and in Pandora’s opinion, they suited her.

“Weird. My parents don’t understand magic or the Wizarding World. They’re not even completely sure what divination is, they just care that there are As and Bs where my grades should be,” She admitted, fiddling with her Ravenclaw tie. “It makes sense. They value my grades, of course they do, but I came home with some lower grades in Charms last year and they lost their minds. They asked to see my notes, and when I pulled out a roll of parchment and they tried to help, they shrugged it off. Said I should figure it out, even if it’s hard.”

Pandora grimaced, and felt a tightening around her throat. She was a muggleborn. How was it possible that her parents cared that much? Liquid pooled in the corners of her eyes, and she forced herself to look up at the ceiling.

Muggles were vile creatures, it was true. They’d oppressed wizardry and magic for centuries -- forced them into hiding purely for their own safety, out of fear that they would be colonized or slaughtered. Still, Pandora couldn’t imagine a world where they were as strict as pureblood families.

She shut her eyes briefly, and caught a glimpse of Francis holding his wand to her temple, threats and curses flooding out of his lips. For a moment, she swore red light had rushed toward her, wrapping around her body and sending scorching fire through her veins. When she opened them again, she was met with the old, dirtied wood on the ceiling of the Three Broomsticks. Her body was wrapped in a warm winter coat, a cold breeze hitting the side of her neck.

“Are you okay?” Amani asked, leaning forward to place a hand over Pandora’s.

“I’m all right,” Pandora managed, her mouth moving faster than her mind. Her voice sounded strange, as if it didn’t even belong to her. She looked at the fingers wrapped around her mug, noticing how pale and nimble they looked. Did they even belong to her?

Amani frowned, clearly not believing her. Still, she asked, “What’s your family like?”

“Similar, I suppose,” She said after a moment. “I wasn’t allowed to be… bad at anything. If I did, I was…”

“Punished?”

“Crucio,” Francis cast, standing several feet away from her. A red string of light shot out of his wand and wrapped itself around her body. At first, she felt nothing, and she thought the spell hadn’t worked at all. Then all at once, she felt it; wildfire running through her body and a burning in her throat. It was only then that she realized she’d been screaming.

“My educators didn’t believe in mistakes,” Pandora said, taking a sip of her butterbeer. She drank quickly, and felt a numbing on the left side of her brain. A strangled noise left her mouth, immediately grabbed hold of her head.

“Brain freeze?” Amani suggested, laughing. She moved two of the mugs away from Pandora, stating, “You should probably slow down.”

“I feel like my entire head is going cold,” She said, leaning her head against her hand. Amani only laughed again, and it occurred to her that someone could have slipped something into her drink. Perhaps she would die. Or the butterbeer would weaken her. Was there a potion that could turn you into ice?

“Relax,” Amani placed a careful hand on Pandora’s wrist. She ignored the urge to rip it away.   
“It’s a brain freeze. Your head will feel like it’s going to freeze over for a few moments. Here, do this.”

Amani stuck out her thumb and pressed it against the roof of her mouth. “It should alleviate some of the pressure.”

Pandora wrinkled her nose, but followed her movements -- albeit, hesitantly. A few seconds passed, and the numbing faded. Immediately, she pulled her finger out of her mouth, pulling on a pair of gloves she’d shoved into her pocket. Amani giggled, taking another sip of her butterbeer. Pandora glanced up at her.

She was childlike, it was true. She was trusting and naive and an easy target; but outside of her blood status, there was nothing to hate. Of all the other mudbloods that populated Hogwarts’ halls -- of all the other mudbloods Pandora associated herself with for the sake of her mission -- the Death Eater had chosen Amani.

“Have you been attacked again?” Pandora asked, and watched as Amani’s demeanor changed. The bright smile she wore faded, and her shoulders tensed.

“No. Verena thinks I’m better off in the Slytherin dormitories because of it, but I think I should go back to the tower,” She explained. She chewed at the skin on her lip. “I can’t hide forever, and there are less purebloods in Ravenclaw, anyway.”

“That doesn’t make it any safer.” She scowled.

“You’re right, but I have roommates. They’ll protect me.”

“They didn’t protect you when you were attacked the first time,” Pandora pointed out. “Who are your roommates?”

“Well, the tower doesn’t work the same as the Slytherin dormitories,” Amani said. “We all share a room. It’s me, Luna Lovegood, Mei Yun, and Aella Coventry.”

Pandora raised an eyebrow then, her blood running cold at the final name on the list. Surely she must have misheard her. Her jaw locked, and through gritted teeth, she asked, “Coventry? A pureblood family?”

“Well, she doesn’t talk about it much, but yeah. She asked to room with us after she got into an argument with her roommates. She doesn’t get on with people very well,” She explained, then frowned. “Surely you don’t think it was her.”

“Who else would have had access to your dorm?”

“We’re taught unlocking spells in our first year. I’m sure it could have been anyone, and it’s rude to assume that someone’s a terrorist based on their blood status,” Amani lectured. Pandora huffed and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. She went to argue again, but Amani sent her a sharp glare, and she knew better than to test her patience.

The walk back to the school was relatively uneventful. Pandora walked close to Amani in an effort to stay warm, and they stopped a few paces away from a little stone cottage by the school.

Pandora raised an eyebrow. “And to whom does this belong to?”

“Hagrid,” Amani said casually. When Pandora gave her a blank stare, Amani queried, “Harry hasn’t told you about him yet?”

“We actually haven’t spoken in a few days,” Pandora justified. They’d argued two days ago, and she’d been too afraid to approach him since then. While she knew better than to put off her mission, she wasn’t sure whether Harry was still upset with her.

“He’s bloody amazing. Come on.” She grabbed her wrist and ran in the direction of the small cabin, excitedly knocking on the door. Pandora winced at the sudden movement, but allowed it. A few seconds passed and she heard shuffling coming from inside the cottage. Eventually, it swung open, and she was met with a giant figure.

It was a large, hairy man, with long, shaggy hair and a matching beard that covered more than half of his face. Pandora’s eyes widened and she held her hand above her pocket, where she’d hidden her wand.

“Hi, Hagrid.” Amani greeted brightly. “This is Pandora Uso. She’s new to the school and I thought she should come and meet you.”

“Oh, well hello there, Pandora.” He spoke with a heavy accent and a gruff voice. Pandora forced a polite smile onto her face, never moving her hand from her pocket. “Honestly, you caught me at a good time. Harry’s here, too.”

“He is?” The words left Pandora’s mouth before she could stop them. She nearly cast the Cruciatus Curse on herself. She felt Amani’s shoulder bump against hers, a teasing smile on her face. Pandora glared daggers at her.

“Yeah. It’s a good thing, too. Lad hasn’t stopped talking about you all day. I’m starting to think even Eddard’s getting sick of him,” Hagrid jokes.

“Eddard?” Pandora questioned, ignoring the sickening feeling in her stomach. Was he going to move on that quickly? And to a boy named Eddard, nevertheless.

Hagrid moved out of the way, opening his door further. In the center of the room sat a small creature, no taller than her knees. She hadn’t seen anything like it. It had the head of a lion cub, with sharp, fang-like teeth; the body of a goat; and a scaled, green tail. Dark red ridges covered the top, and the end of its tail was as sharp as a blade. A chimera.

It occurred to her, then, why Lilith and Midas hadn’t signed her up for Care for Magical Creatures.

Sat behind it was none other than Harry Potter, a tender, nervous smile on his face. As if he wasn’t sitting less than a foot away from a bloodthirsty monster. He stood, rubbing his palms against his pants. “Amani, ‘Dora! What are you doing here? Not that I’m upset you’re here.”

The Boy Who Lived. Perhaps he was taking the title a little too lightly.

The creature moved toward her, and Pandora immediately pulled out her wand, pointing it in the creature. A spell nearly slipped from her tongue before Hagrid held his hand over her wand.

“Don’t! You’ll scare him.”

“It’s a chimera. It’s vicious and bloodthirsty,” Pandora insisted. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she snapped her head in its direction, ready to snip at whoever dared to touch her. It had been Harry -- Harry with his calm green eyes. The kind that brought the earth back to life after an unforgiving cold. Pandora felt her muscles relax, and she dropped the wand to her side.

“He won’t hurt you,” Harry comforted. He placed another hand on the small of her back, leading her away from the door. Pandora kept herself close to the walls, wincing when the creature moved toward her. “His name is Eddard. He’s only a few months old.”

“Then he hasn’t learned to control his instincts and he could very well kill me,” Pandora concluded. “Understood.”

Amani laughed. “You sound like Malfoy after he met the Hippogriff a few years ago.”

“A hippogriff?” Pandora whisper-screamed, her voice nearly cracking. Her tone seemed to excite the chimera, as it jumped a few inches forward. She immediately spun around, burying herself in the sleeves of her coat. All the work she had put into her family’s legacy, all the training she had gone through with Francis, and she was going to die at the hands -- claws -- of an unrestricted chimera.

She felt movement beside her, then Harry’s soft praises to the creature. She turned around and saw Harry petting the creature, smiling at it. “He’s harmless, really. He’s more scared of you than you are of him.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Pandora muttered bitterly. Harry looked back at her, and she huffed, moving behind Harry and leaning down. She leaned her face against his thick red sweater, a gold stripe going through the middle of it.

“Hold your hand out,” Hagrid suggested. “He’ll be able to smell you and get to know you.”

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Harry assured her. Pandora fiddled with her wand for a moment, staring at him. He’d told her, once, that he’d nearly been placed in Slytherin; and for some time, she could see it. Harry fit all of the criteria: ambitious, cunning, and resourceful. She’d barely seen him as a Gryffindor.

She could see it now, though. He was courageous, loyal and chivalrous; and while it could be frustrating at times, she was sure she adored it. Harry Potter wouldn’t have been Harry Potter without his reckless bravery. He would carry it with him -- even if it killed him.

Pandora swallowed her pride, holding her hand in the chimera’s direction. It moved towards it, and the hairs on her neck stuck up. The chimera sniffed her hand for a moment before rubbing its head on her arm, asking for pets. She glanced back at Harry, who gave her a reassuring smile.

“Eddard’s a very good judge of character,” Hagrid interrupted. Somehow Pandora doubted that. If this creature was any good judge of character it would have charred her by now.

“I usually don’t get on with animals very well,” She said, as the chimera rubbed itself against her hand and curved its back beneath her fingers. Its tail nearly hit her hand and she flinched, pulling it back immediately. She heard chuckles from Amani and Harry’s directions.

“It’s getting late,” Harry noted, glancing at the darkening sky outside the cottage. He looked back at Pandora and offered, “Erm, I can take you back to the dormitories, if you’d like?”

He wasn’t upset, then. Or perhaps he was trying to get her alone to yell at her. Perhaps he had found her out and he was going to curse her. Pandora grabbed her coat bringing it tighter around her so she has easy access to her wand in case.

She pulled herself onto her feet, reaching for Harry’s coat on a nearby chair. Amani had made some sort of excuse to stay for a bit longer with Hagrid, stating that she’d needed help studying for a test. She wasn’t even sure Amani took his class, but allowed it to slip, telling her, “I’ll see you in the dormitories tonight.”

The walk was quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a blade. She was sure Eddard would have done it if he could. Pandora could hear her heart beating against her chest. He was going to yell at her soon, or curse her. Or perhaps he would do both. Men tended to be unpredictable when they were angry. She could only hope she’d grown some sort of immunity to the Cruciatus Curse. She’d lost count of how many times it had been used against her. Surely she had lost some of the sensation.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said after a moment. Pandora looked back at him, and he continued, “I lost my temper the other day. I was frustrated and I shouldn’t have done it, so… I’m sorry.”

Pandora chuckled. “Did Hermione tell you to say that?”

“Hit me over the head with a book,” He confirmed with a smile. Her gaze softened at his small laugh. “Sorry. This is my first relationship, if you can’t tell.”

“Not a lot of people want to date the Chosen One?” She’d asked the question several times in the passing months, and she could never get a proper answer. Harry was kind, and he was awkward, it was true, but it was endearing. Anyone would have been lucky to have him -- she almost wished someone would have gotten to him first. Perhaps the red-haired girl, Ginny Weasley. She’d noticed her eyeing him in the Great Hall.

She noticed the way he pursed his lips, and Pandora added, “It’s my first relationship, too, Harry. Don’t worry.”

“It’s just… I wasn’t really sure it was Malfoy. Hermione called me jealous,” Harry explained as Pandora took hold of his arm, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

“Jealous… of Katie Bell?” Pandora assumed. She knew the boy had a death wish, but surely he didn’t want to be cursed.

“No! No, not of Katie -- not that Katie’s a bad person or anything. I love Katie. Well, I don’t love Katie. I love you. I--” His eyes widened and he froze in his place. His hand flew up to his mouth and he looked back at Pandora, wishing he could shove all of his words back into his mouth. Pandora wished it, too.

Pandora stared at him, her body turning to marble. All of Harry’s words seemed to turn into radio frequency. He loved her. He loved her? Surely he didn’t mean it. It was a slip of the tongue, that was all -- a stupid mess of words that he spit out because he was nervous. God, he loved her? He couldn’t love her. There was nothing to love. She had given him a visual, not a person. It wasn’t her that he loved.

“How do you know?” She asked, some part of her curious. Hopeful. Why was she hopeful?

“I didn’t,” He sputtered, going to rub the back of his head. “Well, I didn’t until today. When you met Eddard. When you were scared? Not because you were scared. I -- I don’t know. I’ve never seen that side of you before. You’re usually so sure of yourself. I sound like an idiot.”

He did. He sounded like an absolute fool.

“Erm, the truth is, I was je- I didn’t like the amount of time you were spending with Malfoy. You were spending so much time with him and defending him, and he’s not a good person. He’s said some horrible stuff to Hermione over the years; but you’re right. He probably isn’t a Death Eater. I can’t assume he is just because of his father. I’m sorry.”

“Finally admitting defeat?” Pandora teased.

Harry’s face turned red, “I-urm-Wha-” Pandora gripped his collar tightly before pulling him towards her face. She stopped a few centimeters from her face, searching for any signs that he wanted to move away. When he didn’t, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

She wasn’t sure what to expect. He was warm and tender, something she must have expected from him. She tasted treacle tart and pumpkin, which she assumed he’d had just before. Unlike the kisses she’d had before, he was gentle, moving with her rather than against her. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in his embrace.

She wished she could stay there. Cast some sort of spell to freeze time or turn them into marble statues -- maybe then, she could keep him safe. She felt like a child, crying because her parents refused to buy her a toy. She wanted him. Why did she want him? She wasn’t human. She was never meant to have human emotions. She was never born with human emotions.

But if that were the case, why did it hurt so much when he pulled away?

“I love you, too,” She whispered against the skin of his neck. Tears flooded out of her eyes and she buried her face in his coat. Of course she loved him. Who wouldn’t?


	11. ix. outlaws

❝ i'm sorry that you were not truly  
loved, and that it made you cruel ❞

PANDORA WAS TWO STEPS out of the girl's dormitories when she saw it. Draco Malfoy sitting by the fire, legs crossed and nose deep in some book. Beside him was Pansy Parkison, curled up into his side. He looked at best, unbothered, and at worst, moments away from hexing her. Pansy rested her chin on his shoulder, venting about an argument she'd had with a fifth-year student. Pandora folded her hands over her chest, the corners of her lips twitching it amusement.

"Is something funny, Pandora?" Draco barely glanced up from his book, cutting off Pansy's stream of complaints. The girl looked back at her, all but baring her teeth in her direction.

"Oh it's nothing, Your Highness," Pandora smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she was this amused, and just yesterday Harry tripped down the stairs. Pansy once again tried to get Draco to pay attention to her. Pandora while entertained couldn't stand to listen to her shrill voice anymore.

Pandora stood, "Draco, I almost forgot that Snape wants us to meet with him today." Draco couldn't remember Snape ever wishing to speak with them about Potions before everything clicked. Using this as his escape. Quickly he stood up gathering his things.

"It totally slipped my mind. Have a good rest of your evening Pansy," Pansy sat straight up grippering her wand. She couldn't believe the leash this vulture kept on Draco.

Pandora shut the Common Room doors behind them, all but convulsing with laughter when she was sure Pansy was out of earshot. Draco rolled his eyes at her reaction.

"It isn't that funny," He snapped, walking past her. Pandora followed after him, a hand cupping around her mouth to stifle her giggles. Draco glared at her for a long moment, before noticing her attire. She wore a long-sleeved silk button-up with a pair of dark jeans. She wore a thick silver cuff around her wrist, in the shape of a snake. "Where are you taking us?"

"A Gryffindor party," She said simply. Draco froze in his tracks, immediately going to turn around, muttering insults under his breath. She caught his shoulder with ease, light pushing him in front of her. "Harry's asked me to go, and I won't be around that many whiny Gryffindors on my own."

"Had one too many butterbeers, have you, Mortis?" Draco snarled.

"You'd do well to watch your tongue. Don't forget who just saved you from playing footsies with Pansy Parkinson," Pandora growled.

She and Draco met eyes, silver irises glowing with hatred. She kept her gaze steady, deadened. Seconds passed, and Draco broke his stare, giving into her. The corners of her lips played into a smile and she continued walking, her heels clicking against the cement floors. Draco walked a few paces behind her, dragging his feet against the floor.

In truth, she was relieved she'd caught Draco when she did. She really would have rather died than be in such a large social setting. Harry had asked her to come with him during Divination and she'd nearly broken three cups of tea in the process. If she could find any excuse to avoid feeling completely isolated, she would have taken it.

"Why don't you hex her?" She asked after a moment, growing irritated at the silence. She turned back to Draco, who looked up at her, confused. "Parkinson. It's clear you don't like her very much, and yet you let her follow you around like a child."

"I'm not in the mood to get detention over a measly hex and aren't we trying to not draw attention to ourselves?" Draco inquired.

"The great Draco Malfoy, trying not to draw attention to himself," Pandora chuckled at the thought. She took a step towards him. "All you do is draw attention to yourself from your walk to the insults you spew at children in the hallway."

"Oh? Is The Great Pandora Mortis paying attention to me?" Draco commented. He moved closer, an effort to intimidate her. "You know, I think I should be flattered."

"Don't be. I despise you," She answered all too quickly. As if it had been rehearsed. A conversation she'd had with herself before. Pandora swallowed, feeling his breath on her face, and folded. She turned on her heel, walking in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. Draco followed after her, proud that he'd won an argument.

Pandora reached for her wand, which she'd kept in the back pocket of her jeans. One the other side, a bleach white envelope with a broken black seal.

The library had taken all of two days to put back together. None of the records had been destroyed - not to the extent that Pandora had hoped they would be. All of her efforts to cause chaos within the school, reduced to nearly nothing. Midas had written three pages worth of insults when he heard the news. She would have to do better, otherwise a bloodied mark on her arm would be the least of her worries.

It was rare that her disappointments went unpunished. Truthfully, she could only name one time in which they had -- at Diagon Alley, when she'd gone to get a wand from Ollivanders. They'd gone when she was quite young, no older than nine or ten. Ollivander had tried to argue against it, but Lilith had placed some sort of charm on him. It was difficult to disagree with a woman like Lilith Mortis.

They were sure she would earn herself a phoenix feather core, or dragon heartstring at the very least. They had been the easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, gifted to young wizards such as Tom Riddle. Instead, she'd gotten a fourteen-inch, cedar wood wand made of unicorn hair.

Midas was insistent that the wand had made a mistake. Surely his daughter couldn't have been chosen by such a "pathetic core." Against Lilith's Gumiho core and Midas's Dalgyal Gwishin wand, her spells would be next to nothing. Ollivander, the bastardous old man, had claimed that wands didn't make mistakes, and she was lucky to have been given one that would be loyal to her alone.

Francis spent weeks trying to turn it to the Dark Arts. Of course, it never worked as well as he'd hoped, often backfiring. It didn't respond well to other words, not did it comply with curses or hexes. Eventually, Francis grew frustrated and had Pandora practice a dark spell on her own. The spell fizzled out of the top of her wand, creating nothing more than a few red sparks. Francis lost his temper, then, casting the same curse on her as a punishment.

And when she awoke, he forced her to go again. Failed attempts were followed by equal punishments -- that had always been his rule. Pandora hadn't had the strength to cast it properly, but she preferred to risk death over a disappointed Francis. Two days later, she cast her first curse on a nearby spider. Now, she could do it in her sleep.

The Gryffindor common room was filled to the brim with students, laughing and drinking from silver and bronze goblets. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclas alike were scattered amongst the crowd, music filling the air and nearly piercing her eardrums. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, hands flying to her ears purely out of instinct.

"I'm going to kill you when all of this is over," Draco decided, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt. Pandora stayed close to Draco as they examined the Common Room, taking small, slow steps to avoid alerting anyone of their presence. If the goal had been to avoid drawing attention to themselves, Draco was sure that a party was the worst way to go about it.

In his years at Hogwarts, Draco 'd only ever been to Slytherin parties. He was rarely invited by other houses, though in hindsight, he could see why. He hadn't made himself the most approachable person. He supposed he had himself to blame for the fact that he had no friends outside of his Slytherin posse.

'Well, the Slytherin posse and...' Draco glanced at Pandora, who looked as if she was having the time of her life. Her fingers picked at the skin around neck, wincing when an inebriated student bumped into her, nearly spilling his drink onto her clothes. She choked on her words, her hand immediately wrapping around her right forearm, where her bandages used to be. Draco had told her to keep them on for a few more days, but she'd refused.

"Watch it!" Draco spat, glaring at the smaller fourth-year student. "Learn to look where you're going."

"Malfoy!" The student stumbled on his words, immediately sobering at the sight of the upperclassmen. "I thought we weren't supposed to invite you."

"'Dora!" Harry called out from across the room. The student turned around, immediately recognizing the voice, walking away. Harry's face lit up with joy as he made his way towards her, a childlike grin on his face. He stopped just a few inches away, shoving his hands in his pockets. His smile dimmed when he noticed the figure standing beside her. "Oh, I didn't know you were bringing anyone."

Pandora stepped around Harry scanning for the butterbeer he promised, her hand lingering on his shoulder. "Slughorn's been forcing Draco to tutor me in Potions. We lost track of time, so I thought I would invite him." She quickly glanced back at Harry. "That's all right, isn't it?"

Harry shook his head, ridding himself of the millions of other scenarios he previously thought up. He shot Draco a strained smile, looking between the two. "I-- yeah, no, it's quite alright. The more the merrier, right?"

When Harry wasn't looking, Draco nearly choked on his laughter, as if reading his thoughts. Both Harry and Draco knew in other situations they would be at each other's throats if not for Pandora. Draco would gladly give Harry a lesson or two, but he knew better than to go against Pandora's wishes. He supposed Harry was doing the same.

A schoolboy smile formed on Harry's face when he noticed Pandora's appearance. It was as if he were seeing her again for the first time. "Erm, you, uh, you look -- you look great."

"I suppose I'm a bit overdressed." Pandora commented, glancing around her. The students were dressed in casual, muggle clothing. Patterned button-ups, washed blue denim, and polyester fabrics. She and Draco wore all-black attire and expensive textiles, their status forcing them to stick out like sore thumbs. Pandora took a breath, adjusting the large emerald ring around her finger, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"No you look perfect, absolutely brilliant," Harry insisted.

Draco snorted at Harry's overly affectionate comment. "If you want to snog her, just say it, Potter."

"I don't want to snog her--well, I--" He glanced back at Pandora nervously. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind--not that I don't respect you. I do. You're brilliant-- well, not so brilliant that you're not allowed to struggle with Potions. I could help you! Not that you need it. Um."

"Merlin," Draco muttered. He much preferred whatever hexes Pandora would place on him. Anything would have been better than hearing Potter struggle to compliment his own girlfriend.

"You know, Verena's here," Harry stated sharply. He motioned to the Slytherin girl on the other side of the room, mid-conversation with a few Ravenclaws and what looked to be Astoria Greengrass.

Draco scoffed, immediately understanding Harry's implications. "Sending me to the other Slytherins, are you?"

"I just thought you'd feel more comfortable around others in your house."

"'Dora's in my house, Potter," He retorted, turning his nose up at Harry. "Of course you probably choose to not dwell on that detail, or did you just manage to forget that? I'm sure you can't handle the idea that she might actually have something in common with us snakes."

Pandora walked forward, placing a firm grip on Draco's arm. A silent warning. His gaze flickered between Harry and Pandora, and he pulled his arm back, muttering an insult before making his way toward Verena. Pandora sighed, looking back at Harry. "You don't have to be so harsh all the time."

"Forgive me I don't particularly like playing nice with the guy who spends more time with my girlfriend than I do," Harry grumbled.

"He's... a friend," Pandora said. Could she even say that? Call Draco Malfoy her friend? Friends had never been a part of the mission, but surely he was something more than an ally. Not that she could say any of that in front of Harry. She cleared her throat, glancing around. "D'you have anything to drink?"

"Ron got to your butterbeer before I could," He admitted with a sigh. "There are some chocolate frogs, though, and all there is to drink is firewhiskey."

"Firewhiskey?" It had been a genuine question. Harry motioned, and she noticed the large barrels on a nearby table. Students crowded around it, goblets in hand. Pandora raised an eyebrow. "What is it? Some sort of potion?"

"Well, it's alcohol," Harry chuckled. "But you don't have to drink it! It's mostly for the eighth years, to celebrate winning the recent quidditch game and all that. We've been trying to avoid potions ever since, erm..."

"Ever since?" Pandora raised an eyebrow.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, remember what Hermione said about Romilda Vane?"

'Romilda Vane.' Pandora almost felt bad about casting the impediment jinx on her nearly a month ago, when she caught her staring at Harry during class. She took a breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "About her only liking you because you're the Chosen One?"

"She tried giving me a love potion some time ago," Harry explained. Before Pandora could say another word, he quickly added, "I didn't take it, though! Ron did. She left a box of chocolates on my bed, and Ron ate all of them. Had to ask Slughorn for help to cure it."

"And you never thought to mention this before?" Pandora questioned, her jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. Romilda Vane in all of her half-blood glory, would soon learn what it means to meet death.

"It was a long time ago and no real harm was done," Harry attempted to reassure.

"Right, she just tried to take you from me. No real harm," Pandora muttered. All of the things she would have lost to a bloody love potion. She had half a mind to hex the girl right then. Bloody Gryffindors and their 'courage' and 'nerve,' she was sure it was all code for 'reckless stupidity.' ...

The courage it must take to use a love potion in the Chosen One. At least Pandora had earned her place.

Realizing Pandora was borderline seething, Harry attempted to take her hand, squeezing it. She looked over at him, and he tried to give her a smile. "D'you wanna come meet some friends? If it helps, none of them are romantically interested in me."

'Apart from Ginny Weasley,' Pandora nearly muttered. Instead, she pressed her lips into a thin smile, allowing Harry to lead her to Hermione, Ginny, and a dark-haired girl. She cleared her throat, fiddling with the silver cuff around her wrist as Harry made small conversation with them.

"Ginny, Mei, this is my, um..."

"Girlfriend," Hermione finished with an eye roll. She sent Pandora a polite smile. "It's nice to see you, Pandora."

"Right, girlfriend." He glanced nervously at Pandora, who moved closer to him, wrapping a tight arm around his torso. A snake's way of claiming what was theirs. "This is Pandora Uso."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Pandora's face morphed into a smile so polite it was almost terrifying.

Ginny Weasley was a pretty young girl. Red hair that fell past her shoulders, freckled skin and blue eyes. They were difficult not to notice when they were trained on Harry most days. She supposed she shouldn't have been intimidated. After all, a few Latin words and a wave of her wrist, and all of her problems would have gone away. That's what she was meant to be, after all. She could hear Midas's words ringing in her head.

"Kill your obstacles."

Perhaps it was the simple fact that they knew each other. Harry had known Ron since the day at the platform, when he'd been introduced to his older brothers and Ginny. One year later and he was saving her from the Chamber of Secrets. Now, they spent the holidays together, curled up in the Weasley's cottage. If Harry cared for her, he cared for who she truly was. Not an illusion she'd created for the sake of a mission.

It made her sick.

"So, how'd you meet?" Ginny asked, shifting her weight between her feet.

"Potions class," Pandora's response was quick to the point not wanting to waste time on small talk. She wasn't sure whether she was in complete control of her tongue. Francis and Midas never were, and she doubted she had the self-control that Lilith had possessed.

"Yeah, Harry was drooling over her the second he walked in," Hermione agreed. The comment made Pandora smile, and Harry grumbled, pleading for her to stop. An annoyed look crossed her face then. "What? I couldn't pay attention at all because of you."

"Blimey, Hermione," Harry cursed, immediately turning back to Pandora. "I was not drooling."

"I wouldn't be surprised. You practically spit out your water when you saw me in our fourth year," Mei commented.

Pandora swallowed, lifting an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"Yeah, Harry asked me to the Yule Ball before, but unfortunately I had to turn him down," she giggled. "Cedric had already asked me."

Harry cringed. "Erm, that was a long time ago."

Pandora couldn't stand to listen to this conversation anymore wishing for someone to change the subject. She fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist, running her fingers over the carved silver scales. Her eyes flew to the barrels across the room, and she shot Harry a tight smile. "I'm going to get some firewhiskey."

It was on her way that she ran into none other than Ron Weasley. In the few months that she'd been with Harry, she was quite certain she'd spent two minutes -- consecutively -- speaking to Ron. Her parents rarely mentioned the Weasleys, though from what she could remember, they were blood traitors. She was sure that her parents's hatred from them ran deeper than their willingness to associate with muggleborns, though.

"Are you all right, Pandora?" Ron asked, following her to the barrels. She grabbed a nearby goblet, filling it nearly to the brim. "That's a lot. Should you be drinking that much?"

"That's a lot, Ron," She retorted, her tone monotonous. Pandora motioned to his plate, which was covered in three different snacks. "Should you be eating that much?"

"Touche, but I am a growing boy."

Pandora let out a chuckle. Of the trio, Ron was quite possibly the only person she could allow herself to be honest with. Rarely did she have to play a part around him. The most she'd had to do was take a few curses out of her vocabulary. She turned, taking a sip of the alcoholic drink in her goblet. "And I'm a growing girl who forgets to drink water."

Firewhiskey, as it turned out, had earned its name. Pandora went to swallow, only to feel a burning sensation overtake her throat. Ron laughed, watching her face turn red. She shot him a glare.

"Have you never had a firewhiskey before?" He asked.

"Ron, I've never even been to a party," Pandora managed, letting out a cough.

"I guess that explains why you brought Malfoy," He murmured. When he noticed the confused look on her face, he explained, "Slytherins aren't usually invited. Especially not Slytherins like Malfoy."

She swirled her drink in her cup. "What's wrong with Slytherins? Why do you all hate us so much?"

"Well, not you, of course. Harry's convinced the Sorting Hat made a mistake. Thinks you were supposed to be in Hufflepuff." Ron fumbled. "Of course that's not what everyone believes, especially not me."

"That I was meant to be a Hufflepuff or that all Slytherins should be hated?"

Ron froze like a deer in headlights, "Uh.. Both?" It came out as a question over a statement.

"You know, there's bigger things to worry about than a pathetic house war. The rivalry is stupid and those who take it seriously, Ron," Pandora snapped.

"Move away, Weasley," Draco's voice rang out. The boy moved forward, standing next to Pandora and watching as Ron stumbled on an apology, quickly removing himself from the situation. Draco glanced over at Pandora. "Aren't you supposed to play nice with his friends?"

"Forgive me if I'm having a bad night," She snipped. She crossed her arms over her chest, taking another sip of her drink. "Harry thinks I should be in Hufflepuff."

"Perhaps if Helga Hufflepuff were homicidal," Draco commented. Pandora glared at him, shooting a warning look to the boy next to her. "I wouldn't be too surprised. Harry asked the Sorting Hat not to place him in Slytherin."

"Are we monsters?"

He didn't answer. "It didn't work. The poison, I mean. It never got to Dumbledore."

Pandora froze, turning her body to look at Draco. Another failed task. One that would surely reach Lilith and Midas if she didn't find the other Death Eater. "What is that supposed to mean? Where did it go?"

"Weasley," He motioned to Ron, who was choking down a few chips beside Hermione. "Potter saved him, though. They were at Slughorn's, and he thought of a bloody antidote."

"Well, if you'd thrown together ingredients like I suggested, there wouldn't have been an antidote," Pandora snapped.

"Yes, let's mix potentially lethal ingredients," Draco shot back.

"Have you heard of Aella Coventry?" She asked, finishing her drink. She meant to bring the subject up before, but never found a good time. Even now, she was a bit terrified someone would overhear -- not that any students were willing to stand within six feet of them. "She's a pureblood in Ravenclaw."

The Coventry name went as far back as 1086, known for their hatred of muggleborns and everything in between. They were socialites -- nowhere near the same level as the Malfoys, but they were blood supremacists nevertheless. Even without the riches that often came with supremacy.

"Yes, I have heard of her," Draco responded. "What about her?"

"I need you to ask your mother about her. Narcissa, is it?" She asked. If he'd been able to find Pandora without so much as a hint of her last name, surely he could do this. "Find out if she's a Death Eater."

"A Coventry wouldn't even be invited to a meeting," Draco pointed out. "They don't have the status for it."

"She might not be working for the Dark Lord. She could very well be working for..." Pandora trailed off. She wasn't sure to call them. Her parents? Creators? She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. "They have the money for it, Draco. I wouldn't put it past them."

"Your parents are borderline solitary--"

"That doesn't mean they don't have resources. Think about it - who could've gotten to Amani faster than someone who lives in the same dorm as her?" Pandora hissed, moving towards the barrels and refilling her drink. The room was beginning to spin around her, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

Draco placed a hand on her wrist. "Have you ever had a drink?"

"No, it wasn't a part of my training," She answered quickly, taking a swig from her drink.

"What's wrong with you?"

Pandora clenched her jaw, pulling the envelope out of her pocket and shoving it in Draco's hand. He raised an eyebrow, unfolding the letter and looking through the pages. It was a simple explanation, really. She would have to complete another task, intimidate the students and people of Hogwarts, or she would be punished when she returned. She would have to complete a minimum of three tasks before the year ended, and report back as much information about Harry as she could.

The reminder that she would have to return to the mansion made her stomach twist in knots, and shook another drink, hoping that doing so would force her nerves to settle.

"You could always help me," Draco said, having finished the letters and tucked them into his blazer. When Pandora looked at him, confused, he explained, "I've been messing with a vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement. It has a twin of sorts, at Borgin and Burke's. The Dark Lord wants me to use it to let a few Death Eaters into the school."

"Like who?"

"My aunt, Bellatrix, for one," Draco muttered bitterly. He noticed the grim look on her face and added, "I don't think your parents will be travelling with them."

"Why the Vanishing Cabinet?" Pandora questioned. "There's no other way to get into the school?"

"There's passageways, but they're a bloody maze unless you spend years studying them or you have a map. I've already figured out how to work it, but..."

"When would it happen?" She felt her muscles tense beneath her shirt. Her eyes danced across the room, where Harry was standing by the fireplace, an awkward smile on his face. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet."Surely not soon."

Draco hesitated, not sure what to say next. "The moment I repair the cabinet. Once I complete the task, they need to be here to create the Dark Mark. I'll need to find a way to escape."

"Well, considering you've been failing, I suppose we have nothing to worry about," Pandora snickered.

"That's rich coming from the girl whose only believable excuse was I was tutoring her in Potions," Draco grinned. He looked over at her, a ghost of a smirk on his face. "But then, you are bloody awful."

She snorted, refilling her goblet for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "Watch it, Malfoy. I'm not the best as Potions, but you'd be surprised how much knowledge I have with hexes."

"What's your second task going to be?" Draco questioned, deciding to let her have her fun. He reached over to a nearby tray, picking up a small chocolate rumball and offering it to her. She took it happily. She didn't answer for a bit, focusing her attention on the drink in her hand. Slowly, the effects started to hit her. She reached for her wand, glancing around the room before aiming at the barrels. "You can't be serious."

"It's this or a quidditch game," She grunted.

"How are you so sure it'll work?" He replied. "Do you even know what spell you're going to do?"

"Yes, I do," Pandora remarked. She glared at him, eyes bloodshot. "You're ridiculous. Have some faith in me.(i kinda want her trauma to jump out)"

"Well, forgive me if I'm concerned it'll backfire and kill you," Draco snarled. He watched as she muttered a few words, waving her wand. A dark purple light shot out from her wand, hitting one of the large containers. "What does it do?"

"Just don't drink it," She mumbled, her eyes trained on Harry, Ron and Hermione. She adjusted the large snake wrapped around her wrist, small green emeralds glimmering at the ends of the serpent. She swallowed another bit of her drink, and he was suddenly thankful she wouldn't have anymore. Her words started to slur. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we weren't who we were? Pandora Mortis and Draco Malfoy."

She let out a bitter laugh, and the change in tone made Draco's skin crawl.

"Loyal followers of Lord Voldemort," Pandora mused. "What a stupid name."

It was a thought that had crossed his mind a few times this summer. Mostly in the days leading up to his birthday, when the Dark Lord had decided to give him his mark. Voldemort had wrapped his fingers around his shoulder, snake-like voice praising his loyalty. He supposed he'd been destined for it. Lucius had told him stories of Abraxas and Tom Riddle, passed down throughout the generations. Stories of Malfoys and their neverending loyalty to his cause.

There had been no point in giving him the Dark Mark. Draco had belonged to Voldemort from the moment he was borned.

A lazy smile formed on her face, and it occurred to Draco that the firewhiskey in the barrels had probably been spelled to be stronger. He huffed, taking her hand in his and leading her to the door. "I've had enough of this. Let's go."

Pandora was too inebriated to control her movements, and she stumbled forward. Draco swallowed, keeping a firm grip on her hand as he pulled her out of the Common Room. "Where are you taking me?"

Her words were slurred, and he wrinkled his nose at the sound. Her voice had always been stable. Monotonous at times, but calculated. She'd had a tactic for every sentence that came out of her mouth. The girl he was dragging behind him was a perfect stranger.

"Back to the dormitories. I can't risk you doing anything stupid," Draco excused, helping her out of the portrait and onto the moving stairs. He winced when he saw the flights below them begin to change, wrapping an arm around her smaller figure as the stairs shifted to a nearby hallway. Pandora gripped onto his shirt, terrified of the sudden movement.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Draco swallowed, helping her down and into the nearest hallway before he moved away from her. He swiped his hands against his blazer, attempting to rid himself of his sweaty palms. His ears adjusted to the silence, thankful he'd been able to escape the loud music and chattering students.

Beside him, Pandora leaned against a wall, her dark waves a mess against her face. Her normally dark eyes were glazed over, and it occurred to Draco that it was the most relaxed he'd seen her. He supposed he should have expected it. The ingredients in firewhiskey were meant to lower one's inhibitions. He grasped her hand again, attempting to lead her back to the dorms.

Pandora tripped over her own feet, and Draco quickly caught her, bringing her to his chest. She looked up at him, and he could smell the alcohol on breath and perfume in her hair. He swallowed, suddenly all too aware of her features. Her usually porcelain cheeks were flushed pink, and she smiled then, flashing her pearly white teeth.

Of course they were perfect. Everything about her was perfect. It was nauseating. "You're pretty for a Malfoy."

Draco snorted. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, considering you're European, your family line would suggest Hapsburg jaw and fused limbs." She laughed, eyes wrinkling at the corners. "You don't have fused limbs, do you?"

He shook his head, unsure of how to respond.

"Sometimes I wish I was a Park. It's a ridiculous thought but I entertain it, once in a while," Pandora murmured. She'd said it so quietly, Draco had to take a few moments to process what she'd said. "I wish I'd gone here before. Who knows? Perhaps I could have been a Hufflepuff. I doubt it though. I bloody hate the color yellow."

It was quite possibly the most he'd heard her speak in the months since school began, and surely the most honest.

"But maybe... Do you think he would still love me if I was a Park?" Pandora sighed, and Draco didn't have enough time to answer before she looked up at him, asking, "Would you? We're not friends, but do you think we could have been?"

"'DORA?" Footsteps came running down the halls, and the Chosen One came rushing down the corridor, searching for his girlfriend. Draco released his grip on Pandora and she stumbled, her back hitting the wall. Harry stopped a few feet away from them, frowning. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's fine, Potter," Draco spat. Harry's eyes narrowed at him, and for once, Draco ignored it. "You invite your girlfriend to a party and you don't even keep an eye on her?"

"You whisked her away when I wasn't looking. Of course I couldn't find her!"

"Explain the five shots of firewhiskey she's had, then!" He yelled as Pandora leaned her back against a nearby wall, her ankle nearly giving into her heel. He moved towards Harry, glaring at him. "Filthy half-blood."

That set him off, then. Harry pulled his wand from behind his back and cried, "Stupify!"

Draco flew back, tumbling across the hallway. At the sound of the word Pandora let out a strangled noise, immediately retrieving her wand from her pocket and holding it out in front of her. She fell to her knees, shielding her face with her other hand. His breathing became heavy, as if she were gasping for air.

"'Dora?" Harry reached his hand out to touch her, and she winced.

Pandora looked up, and she looked no better than a child. Her voice came out hushed, and she seemed to be in a daze. Soft whimpers fell from her lips. "You sounded like Francis."


	12. x. crossfire

❝ it must make you so tired  
getting caught in the crossfire ❞

"YOU CAN'T BE SO RECKLESS," Snape spat. Pandora glared up at the professor, crossing her arms over her chest. Only three days since the party, and thirteen students had been sent to the infirmary. Each one suffered the same symptoms: sweats, chills, and labored breathing. It could have easily been chalked up to food poisoning, if it weren't for the Dark Mark carved into the wall inside the Gryffindor Common Room.

"My task was to create chaos, wasn't it?" Pandora snapped. He had cornered her on her way back to the dormitories. She supposed she had Draco to blame for her identity being exposed to Severus. "I fulfilled my mission."

"Your mission is to weaken the Chosen One," He retorted. "Mr. Potter wasn't affected by your little spell. As a matter of fact, he went completely unharmed."

Of course he had. Harry wasn't drinking - none of his colleagues were. Anyone affected was irrelevant and pathetic, though Pandora would have been lying if she said she wasn't pleased knowing Romilda Vane had been one of the first affected. Looking up at Snape, she kept a sharp glare.

"It seems you have been unsuccessful at your mission. Perhaps you should be revoked of your status and your parents will be relieved of their... duties," Snape suggested.

"I was designed for this," Pandora said through gritted teeth, eyes widening at the Death Eater in front of her. "The Dark Lord said--"

"The Dark Lord doesn't like to be disappointed."

"I have done everything right, and I'm the strongest one here!" She yelled, losing her temper. Severus Snape was one of Voldemort's closest confidants. If he suggested that the Mortis family be removed from the ranks, his wishes would be fulfilled. "Are you really going to stop me from serving because I haven't poisoned him like some sort of barbarian?"

"You don't question the Dark Lord's way--"

"Why not?" Pandora sneered. She glanced around them. She wore her school uniform -- a Slytherin tie and button up blazer, and a knee-length gray skirt. Snape was in his usual black robes. "Look where it's gotten us! We're hiding in the catacombs of the Wizarding World like cowards."

"All the more reason why the Dark Lord needs loyal followers who will follow their tasks as they've been written out," Severus responded all too calmly. "You're showing weaknesses."

"I have no weaknesses," She growled, tightening her grip on her wand. Severus stared at her, clearly bored with this. He remained completely unfazed by her thinly veiled threat, and she swallowed, struggling to keep the determined look on her face.

"Your parents should tell you to respect your elders," He muttered. Pandora flinched, and he lifted an eyebrow. If he hadn't found a weakness before, he had just then. "I don't suppose they taught you that in training, did they?"

Pandora was silent, refusing to let her guard down. Snape looked at her -- spoke with her -- as if she were some sort of pest. A stain on the bottom of his shoe that he couldn't seem to get rid of. It was nothing compared to the looks she'd get from Lilith, but it didn't make it any less sickening.

"You performed recklessly. One misstep and you could have killed Mr. Malfoy and yourself. Do you understand where that leaves me?" Snape stated.

"The Unbreakable Vow, is it?" Draco had mentioned it briefly, in passing conversation. If he proved unable to complete his task, Snape would have to perform it himself. He would also have to protect Draco, to the best of his ability. It shouldn't have been too difficult. She was sure she was the most dangerous thing in Draco's life. "You're being ridiculous. I can take care of myself and Draco just fine and without assistance."

"Like I said. Weakness." Severus turned then, walking off without so much as another word. She could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin, humiliation crawling up her chest. She let out a strangled cry when Snape was out of sight, colliding her fist with a nearby wall. Her hand went numb immediately, and pain shot through her arm.

All that she had sacrificed, reduced to nothing in a matter of moments. It never occurred to her how the other Death Eaters perceived her family. She wasn't surprised there was prejudice -- she would always be a foreigner -- but she never imagined that her status could be so easily revoked because of it. Perhaps this was what the muggleborns felt.

She glanced down at her hand, where cuts and pierces began to form at the knuckle. She groaned in frustration, watching as her normally pale skin started to bruise. The pain was there, but it was bearable. She'd handled far worse.

"You'll have your parseltongue assessment today," Francis announced, crossing the room toward Pandora's desk. He stood up straight, hands crossed behind his back, his hand tangled between his fingers. His chest was puffed out, nose stuck high in the air even when he looked down at Pandora. "Have you studied?"

"Yes." She must have been fourteen or fifteen at the time. Even then, she'd been an awful liar. When she'd said it, she stared down at the marble floors. Something twisted in her neck each time she looked into Francis's eyes. She was sure he knew it, too.

"Imperio." He'd said it so calmly, she almost missed it. A deep, rich brown color shot out from the end of Francis's wand, and with a wave of his wrist, Pandora looked up at him. Her muscles moved without permission, every receptor in her brain ignoring her commands. Francis sighed. "I do hate it when you lie to me, Little Lacerta. Answer honestly this time."

"Francis, please," She pleaded. Her jaw felt as if it was about to snap off her neck. The top of her spine began to ache. She was sure he would flick his wand any moment. Perhaps break a few bones. Her anxious heart felt as if it was eating up her body -- eating up her nerves. The Imperius Curse was worse than the Cruciatus one. She was at his mercy with Imperus, and he knew it.

He cut off her pleads, blue eyes dead and unamused. "In parseltongue."

What was 'please' in parseltongue? It had been the first lesson he'd given her, but it had been years ago. She racked her brain for an answer that she knew in her heart she wouldn't find. Excuses filled her brain.

'Tell him you don't know. Apologize. Offer to study extra hard. Say something. Say something! Say nothing. You'll only make him angrier if you apologize. Say you can study for the rest of the day. You won't sleep at all tonight. Fool. You were supposed to be sleeping last night. You were meant to be studying. You've done it now, Pandora.'

He stood across from her, waiting. Francis was a patient man. He would stand there the rest of the day if he had to.

Pandora's eyes flew to the large door, hoping -- begging -- for it to open. Perhaps Midas would ask to speak to her again. Or Lilith needed help in the garden. They never did. She only saw them during supper. They would never interrupt her training sessions. They were too important. They were important and she was failing.

"The Dark Lord is not a patient man," Francis reminded her.

"Francis, I don't know," Pandora murmured. The words came out quiet, strained. Perhaps he would appreciate her honesty, and her punishment wouldn't be too harsh.

He dropped his wand, releasing her from the curse. She fell back in her seat, lifting her hand to touch her jaw. He didn't break any bones, or force her to go through any punishments. Maybe he wasn't too angry. Maybe she was going to be alright.

"I've been doing some research on muggles lately," Francis said. It wasn't a surprise. Francis was always reading, researching. He needed to be prepared for the war as well. "In early modern Europe, they would use something called a whipping boy. He would be educated alongside the prince, and then he would receive corporal punishment for the prince's transgressions."

There weren't young wizards within miles of the Mortis Estate. Pandora wasn't even sure what a young boy or girl her age would look like.

"The muggles are cannibalistic creatures, but they did have a talent for discipline," He continued. "Now, we can't very well educate a house elf, but..."

She'd never even seen the house elves. They were always hidden away in the kitchen or the maid's quarters. Her schedule never allowed for her to interact with them, but she could hear them sometimes in the halls. If they noticed her coming, though, they would scatter. They feared her.

"We could always punish one," Francis finished.

He moved quickly, making his way out of the bedroom and ensuring he left the doors swung open. When Pandora stood to follow him, he sent her a glare. A warning not to test him. A strangled noise left her throat as she watched him disappear down the dark halls, and a few moments later, the sound of a house elf struggling against his grip.

Pandora's back hit the wall, turning away from the halls and falling to her knees when she heard a familiar incantation. He was casting the transmogrification curse.

She'd only studied it, never heard its effects, let alone witnessed them. The curse was meant to torture the victims to death over time. It would force the victim to change shapes, shifting into different creatures and bending their limbs into odd shapes as a way to send the victim into a torturous death.

Not seconds later, the screams of a weary house elf echoed across the East Wing. Francis never spoke it of it again, but the message was clear: if she failed again, it would be her.

Eventually the aching in her hand went numb, and she let it fall to her side. It would bruise, but it wouldn't matter. She needed to find the Room of Requirement. She needed to finish this and begin the war. The year was nearly over, and it would be time to return home. Time to prove to Severus Snape and any other supremacists that she was a monster. She was born to be a monster. She was going to watch Harry Potter die, and she was going to serve the Dark Lord as his most loyal soldier.

She had to. Otherwise, she had no purpose.

The castle was a maze, and after asking several different students for directions, she came to two large doors at the end of the corridor. Her jaw locked and she stormed toward it, making her way inside and shutting the door behind her.

It was a mess. Different magical objects were stacked against each other: harps, shelves, and books. Dust littered the air, sunlight pouring in through windows high above the walls. Pandora coughed into her sleeve, and it occurred to her that her immune system wasn't used to areas left unclean. She supposed that was expected of a castle.

"You're here." Draco stood towards the center of the room, in front of a large black vanity. He stared at her curiously, surprised. "I thought you'd be too busy with Potter again."

"I said I would help," Pandora muttered, making her way toward him. She leaned against a nearby shelf, studying the vanity. It was strange. She never recognized the girl in the reflection.

"What's the matter with you?" He asked, noticing her demeanor. Pandora Mortis was cold, but she was never silent. Not with Draco. Never with Draco.

"Will this ensure that the Death Eaters make their way into Hogwarts and the war begins, or are we going to be stuck here until the year is over?" Pandora ignored him. Standing in the leftover daylight and Slytherin sweater, she still felt cold. Freezing, actually. As if there was no blood left within her, instead replaced with venom and ice. She couldn't be bothered with the red veins surrounding Malfoy's eyes, or he looked as if he'd been crying. It didn't matter. He had his place amongst the Death Eaters. He had nothing to cry over.

"Vanishing Cabinets don't come with instruction manuals, Mortis," Draco said with an eye roll.

"Then maybe you should have come up with a better plan," She spat, quickly losing her temper. Pandora watched his eyes fall, and he swallowed. Quickly, she unravelled, her shoulders falling. She'd gone too far. "I'm sorry."

"Typical. I offer my help and instead you insult me. One would think you believe your training somehow makes you better than me, feel free to leave and finish your tasks on your own."

"I said I'm sorry, all right?" Pandora snapped. "I didn't mean to be harsh to you, now quit throwing a tantrum and tell me how to help."

Draco narrowed his eyes, turning away. He moved toward the cabinet, retrieving his wand from his pocket and running it over the wood. He whispered the incantation, so quiet it was barely audible. "Harmonia Nectere Passus."

He repeated it quietly, and quiet whispers filled the air. Pandora glanced around the crowded room, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting as the voices grew louder. She shifted in discomfort, watching the boy carefully. After a few moments, he moved away, quickly glancing at a nearby, empty bird cage.

"What is it?" Pandora furrowed her eyebrows.

"Nothing." Draco looked back at her, and there was something different. His eyes were cold. Whatever walls she'd managed to tear down in the past few months had gone back up. "So, what exactly is your plan when the war ends?"

He'd phrased it strangely, but she understood what he meant. When the war ended and the Dark Lord prevailed, Death Eaters would once again roam the streets. With Voldemort at full power, his followers would be free to slaughter innocent muggleborns and take control of the Wizarding World. Hermione Granger, Amani, Harry -- she wouldn't be surprised if their heads were on spikes, decorating the gates of the Ministry.

"I don't know. I suppose I'll serve the Dark Lord. Be his confidant," She shrugged, fiddling with her wand. Lilith and Midas had never bothered to bring it up.

"I suppose you'll be with Francis?" Draco assumed.

"My name is Francis, little one. I'll be helping you with your magic."

Something switched then. Pandora's eyes widened, coal black eyes setting on fire the moment

"You're brave, and powerful. You were meant to serve a greater purpose, darling. I think you know that."

"How do you know about Francis?" Pandora asked, voice going cold. It was clear he'd pushed a button, and he wasn't sure what to do to reverse it.

"This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you. It's for the best, I promise."

"You mentioned him when you were drinking fire whiskey. The blond one, isn't it? I've seen him at my father's meetings," Draco asked, deciding to push it further. He was walking on thin ice, but he was curious. What exactly did a Death Eater like Francis have to do with the Mortis family? Sure, he was a pureblood, and he wasn't exactly working class, but he was never important to the Dark Lord. "Bit old for you, isn't he?"

"Excuse me?" What exactly was he implying?

"You called out for him when you were inebriated, you must be close. So what is it? Did your parents sign your marriage rights away, too?"

"Watch how you speak to me," Pandora snapped, approaching him until they were face-to-face. She had half a mind to rip out his tongue and feed it to him. Her blood boiled in her veins, curses rapidly shuffling through her mind.

"Watch your tone with me then. Deal?"

Pandora watched him, her expression deadening before she moved away. She took a step back, allowing her eyes to fall. She wouldn't hurt him. "Francis was my tutor. He raised me. He taught me everything there is to know about magic. Everything important."

"You sounded afraid when Potter threw the charm," Draco began. "Did he hurt you?"

"Only when it was necessary," Pandora said monotonously. She was training to be a soldier. To be a leader and a follower all at once. It was necessary that she was hurt occasionally.

"That doesn't make it excusable," Draco narrowed his eyes at her. Pandora ignored him and moved back to a nearby shelf, resting her back against it as she twirled her wan between her fingers. A subtle warning. When she didn't respond, he grew irritated. "Pandora."

"It made me stronger, didn't it?" She hissed, shutting her eyes tightly. In the darkness, she could see his curly blond hair and nonchalant blue eyes. He wouldn't have been threatening if she'd seen him anywhere else. He'd even mentioned, once, that he had been sorted into Hufflepuff. He was only doing what was best for her; why did she fear him?

Draco was silent for a long moment. "What did you learn, then?"

"Curses, hexes," Pandora summarized, refusing to delve deeper into her memories. "The Dark Arts, mostly. Anything that would force the Dark Lord to see me as a prodigy."

"Have you casted Unforgivables?" He had tried to sound confident, but it was clear. He was afraid of her. He had all right to be. Sometimes she was afraid of her too.

"Not in the way you assume. I killed a lizard," Pandora answered. She watched Draco snort, and she rolled her eyes. Of course he'd laughed. "He would have me perform the spells on animals. The Estate has a large garden, so it was never too much trouble. Butterflies, moths. My parents brought a.... Traitor to the home once. Francis claimed it was free reign. I performed a few curses, but I was young, so Francis killed him."

She remembered the day vividly. It has been a muggle that Midas brought him, claiming that he was a 'bad man.' Francis had demanded she perform the Cruciatus Curse, and a few other torture spells she'd been studying in her previous years. A few days later, Midas had made a toast to Francis, thanking him for having killed the man. She still wasn't sure what the man did to face the wrath of Midas. She knew better than to ask.

Draco was silent, and in a few moments, she found a clear difference between herself and Draco. One that had nothing to do with status or privileges. When the Dark Lord chose him, he hadn't had a choice. His fate was decided in an instant. Pandora's fate, even now, was up in the air. A coin that had been tossed, while the rest of the world waited for its answer.

"Why did your parents hire a tutor over training you themself?"

"They wanted me to be stronger and smarter than the other Death Eaters," Pandora answered carefully. Lilith and Midas were strong, but they only knew so many curses they could use in battle. Francis had been born and raised at the time of Voldemort's reign. He had mastered the Dark Arts, he'd known every defensive and offensive curse like the back of his hand.

"You're stronger than them, then?"

"I suppose you could say that." She'd never considered it before. Never once had she tried to fight against Midas's anger or Lilith's cool temperament. In her mind, it had never been an option.

"Why don't you take advantage of it? You could easily leave this behind you and be free of the war. A simple memory charm and to your parents you never existed."

Pandora thought for a moment, turning away from Draco as to collect her thoughts without taking into account how she looked. He was asking questions -- giving options -- to things she'd never bothered to think of. Her position as her family's heir was never something she'd tried to look outside of. She supposed she could tear them apart if she wanted to. Use a torture spell or tear them to pieces beneath her fingertips. They would have done the same to her.

But then, they had given life to her. Chosen to have a daughter despite all of the problems she'd caused them, and they'd chosen to carry the burden that was Pandora Mortis. She owed them her life.

"It's not that simple, Draco." She owed Francis. She hadn't seen him in nearly a year, but she needed to prove that he had taught her well.

"We'll be discontinuing your Parseltongue lessons. You've made it clear that the only thing you can do with the language is fail. The Dark Lord will be disappointed."

"Nothing is simple," Draco said sharply. The more time they spent alone, the more she noticed how terrified he sounded whenever they spoke about their missions. Of Voldemort. "Given the ability you have I would gladly take the chance and run."

"Why is that, Your Highness?" Pandora asked, fingers tapping on a nearby armoire. "You were raised by Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black. You've been attending Hogwarts every year since you were twelve. Where would you possibly go?"

"That's the thing, isn't it? I'm a Malfoy. I can't leave," He said, bemused by the statement. He put his hands into his pockets, concealing the Malfoy crest carved into a thick silver ring. "I was taught that as a pureblood family, we had a responsibility. To be better than anyone less than a pureblood."

"I suppose it's better than being taught to take advantage of your pureblood status just to feel privileged," Pandora chuckled humorlessly.

The Mortis clan was worth a few billion galleons. Just a bit more than the Malfoys. They were wealthy and pureblooded, but they were foreign. Lilith and Midas only became Death Eaters to taste the privilege that foreigners so rarely touched. It was clear from the moment Lilith wore all her best silk to meet with the Dark Lord.

"Right, so then we run?" It was unrealistic, but she supposed she could entertain it. Pandora approached the cabinet, running her fingers over the designs. She couldn't imagine one Death Eater shoved into the thing, let alone a group of them. "Where would we go? New Zealand?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco rolled his eyes. She felt a pang of fear. Perhaps he was testing her, after all. "Obviously we go to Italy. I heard it's nice there, if not for the muggles."

Pandora laughed then, propping herself up onto a nearby table. After a few moments, Draco returned his attention to the vanity, scribbling notes into a familiar black book. Pandora leaned back against the dusty wood, watching his forehead scrunch together the longer he focused.

"My father despises Lucius Malfoy," Pandora said, remembering the rants Midas would have during supper. More than once, Lilith had to remind him to 'be civil with Mr. Malfoym' seeing as most of the meetings were held at the Malfoy Estate. "Is he truly awful?"

"He never laid a hand on me if that's what you mean," Draco sighed. He looked up from his book momentarily, but quickly lost eye contact with Pandora. He was vulnerable. "But sometimes words cut deeper than any punishment he could have done."

There was a part of her that wanted to stand up and wrap him in an embrace -- the way Harry had done to her, and the way other students had done with their peers. The way he'd swallowed before answering her questions. He'd had to prepare himself to give him an answer that was so clearly rehearsed.

Pandora sat up. "Do you hate him?"

"Do you hate them?"

Pandora's eyes twitched in annoyance. He'd responded to her question with another question, and while it should have been irritating and inconclusive, they both had their answers.

In the faded light and dusty air of the Room of Requirement, it was easy to see Draco Malfoy as her equal. As if the universe had connected the two teenagers together with a piece of thread. She reached out, hesitantly, placing her hand over his. The left one, at least. It wasn't as bruised and battered.

His touch was warm, fingers soft despite all the iron that forged him. He looked up at her, eyes questioning, but turned his hand over, wrapping his fingers around hers.

It occurred to them both that they had no interests in anything anymore. They'd had no idea how they were going to escape. At least the others had a taste for hope, for life. They seemed to understand something that the two didn't. Perhaps they, themselves, were lacking. It was possible. They often felt inferior.

Pandora only wanted to get away, sometimes, but there was no place to go. Suicide might have been an option, but Merlin, it would just be more work. She wanted to sleep for five years -- not that they would let her.

The door swung open again, and Verena stood at the door with a pitiful expression. "Hi."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "How did you find us?"

"Harry. He still has the Marauders Map, and he let me borrow it for a bit to see where you were," Verena said, approaching the two slowly. She wore a green-knit sweater, a silver stripe going through the middle. Her eyes drifted to Pandora's hand for a moment, but they quickly widened, filling with shock. "Oh, my god!"

She hadn't actually looked at her hand for almost an hour. She only knew it stung a bit. Pandora lifted her right hand, noticing the way her knuckles were now discolored. Greens, reds, and purples tinted her swollen skin. Her wrist was limp and bent oddly, as if she'd--

"Did you break your wrist?" Draco asked, stepping forward. He stretched out his hand, carefully examining her wrist. "So I'm assuming the wall won."

"That looks serious. Do you want me to take you to the infirmary?" Verena asked, ignoring Draco's comment before Pandora could snark at the boy.

"It's fine, I'm sure there's a spell for it," Pandora shook her head. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them wide in an effort to stay awake. She was sure if she kept this up any longer, she would get herself into more trouble. "I'll be in my dorm."

"Be careful. It's feeding day," Verena told her, watching as the girl shuffled out of the dormitory. The door shut behind her, and silence filled the air. Verena looked back at Draco, who seemed uncomfortable, moving his attention back to a few books. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," He said sharply, turning a page and nearly tearing it out.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right?" Verena tore the book from his hands and tossed onto a nearby table. "I'm sorry that I tried to tell you the war wasn't real. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you; but you haven't spoken to me in months!"

"I spoke to you at the party." He didn't. He stood by swirling his drink and pretended to listen to the group's conversation.

"I'm going to pretend that happened," Verena sighed, examining the walls of the room. Looking everywhere other than Draco.

She'd been to the Room of Requirement often, mostly when she'd participated in Dumbledore's Army. She'd hated the man, but she would have been damned if she dealt with Umbridge for a few more years.

"Do you remember, when we were kids, trying to catch butterflies in the garden?"

Draco closed his eyes. He shut the book in his hands, an effort to pull the memory back. He remembered that day clearly and everything that happened afterwards. They were in the backyard of the Kouame Estate, where flowers grew and animals flourished in the bright sunlight. They should have been eight at the time, eyes bright and filled with curiosity.

Lucius trusted the Kouames, but did so begrudgingly. The Kouames were purebloods and they didn't associate themselves with muggles or muggleborns, but they weren't Death Eaters. They turned away from the Dark Lord when he asked for them. There wasn't a single member of the Kouame House that had been sent to Azkaban, let alone studied the Dark Arts.

Not that Draco knew any of it at the time. He only knew that his mother argued with Lucius after breakfast, and she would come to lunch with bruises on her arm. He knew that he couldn't spend longer than a few hours at the Kouame house, and he was always to be accompanied by Narcissa.

"Do you ever wish to go back to simpler days? Days where there wasn't a war brewing on the horizon, where we didn't have to worry about blood status, and being the best at magic."

Draco didn't respond. In hindsight, he wasn't sure there were simpler days. Just days where the war went unspoken. It was always brewing, always there. Something people turned a blind eye to, hoping that when the day finally did come, they wouldn't be there to see it.

"What are you doing up here anyway?" Verena asked, turning her attention back to Draco. She walked over, leaning her head on his shoulder as he began looking through another book. Her eyes scanned the pages before she realized. "You're trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet?"

"In case we ever need to leave," He lied smoothly. He hated being dishonest with her, but he couldn't let her get caught up in his troubles.

Verena nodded, eyes flashing to the cabinet. It was a believable lie. She knew he didn't want to be a part of the war, even if he was a Malfoy. He was just a boy. "How's it going?"

"I've been stuck for weeks," Draco admitted. "Bloody thing needs a spell to work at all. I need to get it to work on its own."

"I'm sure you'll get it. It just takes some time," Verena moved away from Draco, retrieving her wand from her robes and running it over the expensive vanity. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

But it burned in one.

"Why don't we both try it?" Verena suggested, pulling the door open and placing a book inside of it. "It might need double the magic. Someone casting the spell from both sides."

"I don't want your help," He said sharply. The words came out harsher than he meant to. Verena could escape the war if she wanted to. He couldn't let her give up that freedom.

"Draco--"

"I don't want your help," Draco said again, narrowing his eyes at the girl in front of him. He needed to push her away. Chase her away, if he needed to. "It's not a bonding exercise. It's not the days in the garden when we could pretend there wasn't a war. We're not friends."

Verena stared at him, patient brown eyes growing cold. She was silent, disbelief overcoming her features as she stared at him. "What is the matter with you?"

"You're being ridiculous--"

"No, Draco, you're being ridiculous," She spat, finally losing her temper. "I am reaching out to you, despite everything that you have done to me and my friends, and all of the muggleborns and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and underclassmen at Hogwarts. You have spent years here being cruel and awful, and I have tried to stick by you -- I am trying to stick by you -- and you still can't get out of your own way!"

He felt a heaviness grow in his chest. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but this was for the best, wasn't it? Verena growing cold and turning away from him -- away from the Death Eaters. Voldemort couldn't get his hands on her so long as she was against supremacy.

"I can't name one person who hasn't told me to give up on you," Verena stated, making her way to the door. "I should've done it sooner."


	13. xi. zenosyne

❝ perhaps one did not want to be loved,  
so much as to be understood ❞

-

trigger warning: this chapter contains attempts  
and talks of s*icide. if you feel you may be  
affected by this, please read with discretion

-

PANDORA GLARED AT THE piles of letters in front of her. Each with the seal torn in half, revealing black calligraphy and curses. She'd started to toss them, lazily, onto her desk. Letters were coming in almost everyday now that the year was coming to a close. Each one asked for updates on Harry, whether she'd found any weaknesses to use against him.She reported back once a week, only mentioning a few: his muggle family, the Dursleys; how he spent most of his time in train stations; and a wedding he'd invited her to.

There was something sickeningly cruel about it all. She'd come here for a purpose, to weaken Harry Potter and distract him from fulfilling his duties as the Chosen One. Instead, he'd weakened her. Tamed the beast she had spent her whole life training to become, just by smiling and saying he 'cared for her.' The irony wasn't lost on her.

Not that any of it mattered. She would have to return in a few months, and all of the people that claimed to care for her now, would change their minds the moment they saw her on the other side of the battlefield. She would stand there with no one, with her wand in her hand, casting torture spells and killing curses -- it was her fate. It had been written out for her from the day she was born.

Why did it hurt then? Attending Hogwarts and developing all of the weaknesses she'd once looked down upon -- it had sent an aching through her chest. An unbearable sort of pain that she'd tried so many times to sleep away, only to wake with the same affliction. It was as if she could see herself for the first time, recognizing her position in the world. This experience, this sense of rebirth, had been one of horror.

She considered, once, betraying all of it. Running to Professor Dumbledore and telling him about the Mortis Family, and how they'd sent her to distract Harry. Perhaps he would have stopped it, sent Lilith and Midas to Azkaban and she would have been freed of her worries.

But there were two ways that could have ended. The first would have been that she was sent to Azkaban with them, and she would be surrounded with dementors for the next several years. She would be left wandless, unable to cast so much as a defense curse against them. It wasn't as if she would ever learn to cast a patronus.

The second, the Death Eater inside of Hogwarts would kill her. They'd made it clear they weren't against physically harming her. With Lilith and Midas locked away and her loyalty to the Chosen One, she would no longer be useful. There would have been no reason to keep her alive.

Her eyes fell to her bandaged hand. She'd tried to spell it three times before she gave in and went to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey said that she'd cracked all four of her knuckles and torn several ligaments. It only took a few spells and potions for her to start the healing process, but Pandora had refused to stay overnight. Thus, she would be bandaged for the next several weeks.

She had half a mind to force herself to be ambidextrous. She couldn't hold her wand properly with broken joints, let alone cast a proper spell. She'd had to sit mindlessly in Charms just the day before, watching others try to figure out how to cast a silencing spell.

The magnitude of the situation only grew heavier when she stood about a particular bed in the Hospital Wing. She watched as Amani Yassin lied limp against the bed, the sleeves of her blue sweater rolled up to reveal two large scars carved into her arms. When Madam Pomfrey turned away, Pandora took a seat at the foot of the bed, taking Amani's hand into her lap and studying the scars closely.

Whoever had cursed Amani seemed to have a sense of humor. The Dark Mark had been carved into her arms, branding her with the design of the group that hated her most. Pandora swallowed, grabbing one of the bandages from the bedside table. Her eyes flew to Madam Pomfrey, who was leaning over a small cauldron pot. "What happened to her?"

"A mixture of two curses, it looks like. I'm not sure what the second one is. It put her to sleep after the burns started," She mumbled sadly. The woman had seen more gruesome things than one could imagine while working as a nurse at Hogwarts, but this seemed to worry her more than most of the patients she had tended to. Understandably, of course. Students weren't typically rushed to the Hospital Wing with the Dark Mark carved savagely into their forearms.

Pandora gritted her teeth together and desperately tried to wrap the bandages around Amani's forearms, despite how quickly they unravelled every time she did. A huff left her lips, and she tried to wrap them again, only for it to fall apart immediately. "Ferula."

If one person didn't deserve to have the mark, it was Amani Yassin. The bandage quickly wrapped itself around her forearm, tightening against her brown skin. It was a revolting thought to think that she'd been sitting at the Ravenclaw table just yesterday, laughing alongside her housemates and Verena.

"I don't suppose you have any idea who did this," Pandora said, pushing herself off the bed. Spells of that magnitude weren't exactly taught at Hogwarts, were they? She knew the answer to her next question, but she couldn't help but ask it. She needed to hurt someone. Someone to blame. "Isn't there supposed to be some sort of anti-intruder charm on the school?"

Madam Pomfrey's gaze darkened for a moment, as though several horrifying thoughts had presented themselves in a singular second. The nurse chose her words carefully, doing her best to keep them comforting. "Yes, of course. Dumbledore casted it himself. It's impossible to beat."

"Then what the hell is this?" She hissed, tightening her grip on the wand in her hand as she motioned to Amani. Hurt her. Hurt her, hurt her. "Every time a student comes here, you advertise Hogwarts as the safest place in the world. I've done my reading. Weren't there several students petrified in the halls, not four years ago?"

"This is the safest place in the world, Miss Mortis. Do you know why?" She mused in response to the Slytherin, eyebrows quirked upwards with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Because, even though students fall into danger every day, we will always be here to help them, heal them, and protect them. The person responsible will not go unpunished, I assure you."

It was Pomfrey's last sentence that allowed for Pandora to truly smile. She let her shoulders fall, eyes flitting to the potion the nurse had brewed. "Of course. I apologize, Madam Pomfrey. I seem to have forgotten myself. If you'll excuse me..."

Pandora swiftly made her way out of the Hospital Wing, turning a corner to hunt down Aella Coventry. It was like flipping a light switch, really. In a matter of seconds, she felt her blood run cold, the aching in her heart melting into ambition. If she listened closely, she swore she could hear Francis -- hear every torture curse she'd learned in the past years. The Coventrys weren't highborns, and Aella wasn't their only heir. She could survive a few seconds hurting, couldn't she?

She caught sight of the dark-haired girl attempting to make her way back to the Ravenclaw dormitories. Pandora straightened her back, forming a polite smile as she approached the girl. "Coventry! Are you busy? I'm having a bit of trouble in Astronomy. I was wondering if you could help."

'Crucio. It's just one word. It's just one word, darling. One little word. Don't tell me you're too scared to do it. Don't tell me you're weak. You're not weak, are you?'

Aella's dark hair whipped around her face when she heard Pandora's voice call her name. Their smiles seemed to match, despite their opposite intentions. "Pandora! Sure, when are you free?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could help now. In the Astronomy Tower. It should be empty. All I just need to find the difference between the Lacerta constellation, Volans, and Carina."

She blinked, not receiving the answer that she seemed to have expected from the Slytherin girl. Aella clutched her books closer to her chest, her throat contorting as she swallowed. "Does it have to be now? I was on my way to meet some friends in my do--"

"I'm not asking. Imperio." Pandora flicked her wand in the girl's direction, having lost her patience. Aella's silver eyes glazed over immediately, a dreamy smile forming on her lips as she awaited her next orders. The corners of Pandora's lips twitched into a smirk, watching as Aella held her books to her chest and began walking in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

There was a sort of euphoria that came with casting dark spells. Something about knowing that her spell had worked. The Imperius Curse was by far one of the easiest, of course. Truthfully, it didn't deserve to be among the 'Unforgivables.'

Unsurprisingly, the Astronomy Tower wasn't too far from the Ravenclaw Tower. Aella began climbing the wooden staircase, and Pandora quickly caught her wrist, narrowing her eyes. "How much is Midas paying you?"

She hummed, eyes caught in a dream-like state as they walked up the steps. The damned Ravenclaw was stuck in a world of her own, an objectively irritating side effect of the Unforgivable. "Who's Midas?"

"When did you start working for the Dark Lord, then?" Pandora hissed. She really had no reason to keep her alive. Would it really matter that much if she happened to stumble over the ledge?

"I don't," Aella mused absently. Obediently. As though her life didn't depend on the words that came out of her mouth within the next three seconds.

'Crucio. It's only a word. Only the wave of a wand. She deserves it, don't you agree?'

Pandora narrowed her eyes. She had half a mind to push her off the staircase right then and there. She yanked up the sleeves of her robes, nails digging into the milky white skin. It had to be her. It wasn't Severus, it wasn't Draco. There weren't many Death Eaters left at Hogwarts, no one left who could have possibly been within arms reach of Lilith and Midas.

It wasn't. Blood began to spill onto Pandora's fingernails when she was nothing but pale white skin. No Dark Mark. No sign that she had been the one to curse Amani. No one to blame.

Pandora sped up her pace, dragging Aella up the stairs and giving into her instincts. She wasn't wrong. She couldn't be wrong. There was no one left. No one that had access to Amani. No other supremacists that were willing -- or able -- to risk their lives in favor of fulfilling a task. No one that her parents could have possibly reached out to. Perhaps she hadn't been given her mark yet. Perhaps she hadn't earned it yet.

Perhaps the Coventrys weren't smart enough to cover their tracks. She could check her wand, couldn't she? Test the last spell she'd casted; it wouldn't matter if she'd had enough time to cast another one, though. Perhaps she could torture her into answering the question, or until some sort of Memory Charm wore off. It had to work eventually. What was an Unforgivable if it meant protecting someone you cared for?

It was at the top of the staircase that she heard it. The sounds of someone choking back sobs. Whimpers, was it? Pandora glanced back at Aella, who still seemed to be in a daze, and left her on the steps. She wouldn't move unless she asked her to.

The faintest words could be made out as they got closer. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you doing?" Pandora spat, glaring sharply at the blond boy leaning against the railings of the tower. His fingers were gripping onto the icy railings, eyes focused on whatever lies below. Jagged rocks, probably, and water.

"This doesn't concern you," Draco hissed. He barely looked over at her, the damned coward. "Not anymore."

Oh. Pandora's jaw clenched. He'd said six words, and she could feel them sink into her chest. How quickly could someone die from a fall of that magnitude? Would he even make it to the waters? Her mouth went dry, and a sickening feeling settled in her stomach when she noticed she wasn't standing close enough to stop him if he fell. "You can move, or I can make you."

"Just go!" His voice was shaky as he screwed his eyes tight. "Please."

She would be alone. Of course, she was fated to be alone, but perhaps it would hurt a little bit less if she wasn't. She wouldn't have another moment to breathe. To think. She would have to disappear behind the mask again. To conceal herself within another person. In a second, she would lose the ability to even think. "Draco, I'm losing my patience. Move."

"Then leave! Like I've said before this not longer involves you, Pandora. I'm sure you have better things to do than waste your time here," For a little while the silence engulfed them. Only to be broken with a small laugh leaving Draco's lips.

"After all you always have something better to do then be around those you deem inferior."

"Imperio." She waved her wand quickly, forcing him away from the ledge and to walk closer to her before she dropped the spell entirely. The dreamy daze fell in an instant, and she could feel tears pricking her eyes. Her mouth tasted of copper as she stared at him, taking in his tired eyes and tear stained cheeks. "You do not get to leave me here. It is not an option."

"Do something about it then! Kill your parents, move away, go into hiding, do something." His voice was hysterical, urging her to see some other option than the narrow view she looked through.

"How many times do we need to have this conversation? We don't get a choice!" Was he dense?

"Yes we do," Draco stared at the ground before looking up at Pandora. His voice was still quiet, "They can't resurrect us."

She stared at him for a moment, her face going blank. She wasn't sure why she was so angry. Why she looked at him in the dim lighting of the Astronomy Tower and saw nothing but red. There was no fear quite like this one. No comparable torture that equated to the burning she felt in her chest. Staring at Draco Malfoy, at times, felt like a crossroads. It felt as though her violent desire to survive was lodged in her chest, where her heart should have been.

'Please, don't.'

"Die, then. Toss yourself off the Astronomy Tower. Throw the Killing Curse at a mirror. Feed yourself to the squid." Pandora hissed, shoving him away from her. She turned on her heel, making her way back down the stairs with Aella trailing behind her. "See if I care."

"Well obviously you did care if you imperioed me off the edge!" Draco yelled at her as she walked away.

"It's barely an Unforgivable. Don't be a child."

"Like I said, you don't waste time on those you deem inferior unless you're playing a part."

"Are you implying something? Don't you have another tower to throw yourself off?"

"I'm simply making a statement and observation," Draco seemed eerily calm for someone so happy to throw themselves off a tower mere moments before. He shrugged as he turned away from her not looking back, "And let's not forget you stopped me from doing exactly that."

"Your life isn't yours to take," Pandora snapped. "Your death doesn't affect you. You're dead. There's nothing left of you but a corpse. Your death is something that happens to everyone else. You're selfish."

Draco spun around teeth clenched, "Tell me who it affects then? My friends? They only stay because of my status. My family? Father has never been the kindest and Mother can move on. Now tell me, Pandora, who does this affect?"

"Verena, you incompetent ferret." Pandora snapped. She obliviated Aella quickly, practically shoving the girl down the stairs as she turned to face the blond idiot. "Verena would mourn you."

Draco let out a crude laugh, "People move on, Pandora, as would she."

She attempted to keep her words sharp. An attempt to intimidate him, to seem stronger than she was. She was stronger than this, wasn't she? If it weren't for the adrenaline, she might have felt the scars burning beneath her clothes."You're the only person I'll have after the war begins. I won't have anyone left. You can't leave me alone. I'll protect you when the war begins, I swear it, just don't."

Pandora's words finally seemed to register with the emotional mess that was Draco Malfoy. He swallowed whatever pride must have remained and took a shaky breath as he collected himself. It was as if he remembered who he was. Who he was meant to be, at least. "How do you expect to protect me, 'Dora? We're kids to them! You know that, right?"

Pandora paused. "I'm a Slytherin, aren't I? I'm meant to be cunning, ambitious, calculating. I can choose my loyalties, right? I snuck into 'the safest place for wizardry.' I survived years of training. I can find a way."

She could keep him safe. She knew she could. She would come for all of the monsters that ever touched him. For all of the ones who twisted his life into shadows, and turned his life into a nightmare; she would become theirs.

Draco stared up at the ceiling, never once glancing at her as she spoke. "Are you cold?"

"What?"

Draco met Pandora's eyes, they were softer than they were moments ago. "Are you cold?"

She blinked, still not quite registering his question. Was this meant to be a trick? "I... Suppose?"

He smiled slightly, "You can stay in my dorm. I've heard the girls' dormitories aren't always the warmest."

Pandora remained quiet, breaking eye contact to look at the nearby rocks. "Okay."

"Okay."

She wrapped her arms around herself as they made their way down the Astronomy Tower. He was quiet for a long moment, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked. It felt strange -- have you ever seen Hell in someone's eyes and loved it anyway?

"Also, how does it feel to be failing potions?"


End file.
